


No Such Thing

by NikkiSage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1984-esque, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate American history, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Omega Dean Winchester, Perfect Pair Bang 2020, Platonic Cuddling, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Secret Identity, True Mates, male omegas "don't exist"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 100,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23985625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikkiSage/pseuds/NikkiSage
Summary: Dean has a lot of things to worry about. Whether or not his dad got himself arrested, or if he’s drinking himself into a coma on their couch. His little brother presenting as an Alpha and being shipped off to a war that he’ll never return from. About the fact that the Legion can hear everything they say.(They’re always listening.)And Dean’s biggest worry? Anyone finding out that he’s not a Beta, because Dean is a dead man if anyone knew he was a male Omega.The last thing Dean needed was for his very male and very Alpha true mate to show up at Dean’s job and turn his life upside down, so that’s exactly what he got.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 171
Kudos: 327
Collections: Perfect Pair Bang 2020 (Official)





	1. What Happened To Mary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jaeh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaeh/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was such an honor to get to help put together the PPB and an even bigger honor to be matched up with my awesome friend, Jaeh. She's an amazing artist with multiple different art styles, and I'm so lucky to have a sample of each scattered throughout this fic. Together we came up with the idea of an A/B/O fic that was different than the usual, and I really hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> To see more of Jaeh's artwork, please check out the link here, and give her some love!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/24003778

Dean knew that he was dreaming.

He wasn’t typically a lucid dreamer, but even he knew that going from a twenty-one-year-old to a preschooler was impossible. That and he was staring at the young face of his dead mother, looking just as beautiful as he remembered her. She was wearing a yellow sundress, with a bright yellow buttercup tucked behind her ear. A gift that a young Dean had presented to her at the beginning of the dream sequence.

“What do you think? How do I look?” Mary asked, gesturing to her hair while slowly showing off the flower like it was a fine piece of jewelry.

“Pretty!” a young voice came out of Dean’s lips, even though that’s not what Dean wanted to say.

He wanted to tell her that she was always beautiful, and how much he loved her. How much he missed her.

But that wasn’t part of the script.

Instead his dad came over with a baby Sammy in tow as the dreams—or were they memories?—continued moving forward, but there was something about them that was off. It was a lot like watching an old VHS tape that was faulty and kept skipping sections. One minute they were having a picnic in an open field, the next he was playing a game of catch with his dad, and then in another blink he was on a swing that was being pushed by his mom.

“How high do you want to go?” Mary would always ask.

“High enough that I can fly!” was young Dean’s trusty reply.

It only slowed down when they were packing up to leave the park for the day, Mary tensing as she shoved Sammy’s toys into his baby bag. Dean could see the way she clutched onto Sam’s dog plushie, so tight that she was losing color in her hands, and the way her eyes darted around nervously. So did his father.

“Mary, you okay?”

“I think I saw someone,” she said, slowly scoping out the area.

“We’re in the park, Mar. There are people running all over.”

“No, I mean… they didn’t look like they belonged.”

Dean wished that his dad had paid more attention to her claim; that he at least did a once over. Maybe he would’ve seen a weird guy in biker gear? Or maybe someone in an expensive suit and sunglasses? Someone who didn’t fit with the happy family scenery.

Instead, John continued stowing away their stuff, telling Mary that she had been out in the sun too long and would need some rest.

“I think you might still have some of that baby brain,” John teased.

Mary didn’t smile or relax, but she did acquiesce and returned to packing up their things.

Dean wanted to open his mouth and say, “Mom, you’re right! There _is_ someone dangerous here. And he’s going to follow us back to the house!”

Instead the only reason he opened his mouth was to try to stick dirt in it.

“Dean, no!” Mary shrieked before she slapped his hand away.

“But it looks like dry chocolate milk!” four-year-old Dean tried to explain.

“Trust me, it doesn’t taste like chocolate powder.” Mary sighed and took one last glance over her shoulder before giving up on whatever she thought she saw. “How about you go keep an eye on Sammy in his stroller and then we can head home, okay?”

“Okay,” young Dean sighed, but older Dean was cursing his younger self. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a brat, his mom would have found proof.

The scene skipped again to them in the Impala, and his mother swiveling around in her seat to look towards the back window.

“Mary,” John sighed. “There’s no one there. Just keep your eyes up front and try to relax, okay?”

“I know I’m being silly, but I just can’t shake this feeling.”

“Sounds like you’re just tired from the long day. Maybe you should take a nap when we put the boys down for theirs?”

“Maybe.”

The setting shifted to after dinner where Mary was so twitchy that she shattered a plate while doing the dishes. John squeezed in right beside her, and slowly directed Mary out toward the living room.

“I got it from here,” John promised. “How about you go watch something with the kids?”

Young Dean perked up at that. “ _Scooby-Doo_?”

Mary gave a shaky laugh. “Well I don’t think there’s an episode on at this time of night, but I can put in a tape for you.”

One moment Mary was leading him towards the living room, the next she was tucking him into his bed.

“For Christmas, do you think Santa can get me a racecar bed? No no, I changed my mind! I want an Imp-paula bed like Daddy’s car!”

“We’ll see. Remember, you have to be really good for a gift that big.”

“I’m always good!”

“We’ll see,” Mary repeated with a giggle before kissing Dean on the forehead. “I love you, sweetie. Remember, angels are watching over you.”

“Are the angels the ones that are going to report me to Santa? Can I only have one? I think I only need one.”

Mary laughed again, but then her laugh turned into screams of terror as the house was suddenly filled with smoke.

“Mommy?” Dean called out, but Mary was no longer in his room. Jumping out of bed, he toddled his way down the hall, which was quickly filling with smoke and ash. “Mommy!”

“Dean!” John yelled from behind before scooping him up around the waist and maneuvering him downstairs where the air was cleaner.

Dean didn’t have much time to process anything before a small bundle was placed in his arms.

“Take Sammy and go. Don’t stop and don’t look back!”

Dean tightened his grip on Sammy and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. He didn’t know if the bad man his mom saw before was still lurking in the shadows, waiting to snatch him and Sammy up.

Logically, he knew this was just a dream and that these things had already happened, but that didn’t stop him from running as fast as he could anyway.

His heart felt like it was pounding through his chest, but no matter how hard he strained to get to the door, it continued to be out of reach.

The flames were getting closer, and any minute now they would devour the both of them like they had already devoured their mom, and then—

Dean was jolted awake by a hard kick to the knee.

“Fuck, Sammy, I’m a human being, not one of your soccer balls!” Dean bitched, rubbing a hand over his abused kneecap.

“Yu were tossen and turn’g,” Sammy yawned, but he kept his eyes closed. “And you were whining in my ear.”

“Well, that’s what you get for crawling into my bed, you cretin.”

Despite Sam’s twin bed being directly across from Dean’s, his gangly brother was doing his best to squeeze into Dean’s already snugged bed.

“Shut up, I’m trying to sleep,” Sammy complained, burying his head deeper into Dean’s pillow.

“Then sleep in your own damn bed,” Dean retorted, but made no effort to shove his brother off. He hated to admit it, but he needed the company.

Whenever he had the dream about that day, he needed to have that confirmation that Sammy was still alive. To know that he didn’t lose everything to the fire.

“Your fat head is taking up all of the pillow,” Dean grumbled before reclaiming some of it.

Being this close to Sam, Dean could make out the mild earthy scent that was purely his brother. It reminded him of freshly cut grass, just like Dean’s own smell reminded Sam of juicy, sliced apples. As usual, the scent of family put Dean at ease, and he started to relax and drifted back to sleep.


	2. The Legion We Trust

When Dean woke up again, it was to the sounds of Sam snoring in his ear. Part of him was tempted to shove his little brother off the bed, especially since the two of them had so little space to begin with. Hell, they were smooshed on top of one another in an attempt to fit. However, the other part of him enjoyed this. They had spent most of their lives sharing the same bed, and Dean always slept better on the nights that Sam snuck back into his. They both especially needed it last night, as yesterday marked the seventeenth anniversary of their mother’s death.

Glancing over at the alarm clock by his nightstand, Dean groaned when he realized it was already 5:30am. The day wasn’t going to start itself, and if Dean wanted to get Sam’s ass into school before 8 and his own ass to work on time, then he really had to get up now.

It took a good ten minutes just to untangle himself from his gangly brother—who was 90% limbs at this point—but he managed to do so without waking the kid up, which Dean counted as a victory. Dean had a feeling that the kid had been up until almost the morning hours, fighting off his own nightmares, before he gave up to join Dean. The boy needed his extra sleep and he couldn’t afford to get caught falling asleep during one of his classes.

Any strike on the boy’s record would carry on when the government decided where to put Sam for placement.

Dean tried very hard not to think about how this was his brother’s last year of high school, and that anything could happen to him in the following year.

Dean snuck out of the room and started to make his way towards the basement/home gym, only pausing to stick his head in the living room to see if his father was still there. John Winchester was passed out on the couch; he hadn’t even bothered pulling out the bed portion of the sofa, but at least he didn’t spill alcohol all over the carpet, and wasn’t covered in vomit this time. Most importantly, the man was still breathing.

Good. Dean had back-to-back shifts between his two jobs today; the last thing he needed to do was babysit John on top of everything else.

Heading downstairs, Dean immediately went over towards the dumbbells, picking up a 20-lb. weight in each hand to get started on his morning stretches before moving on to the pulley machine to work out his back muscles, then the deadlift machine for upper body muscles, and finally ending his workout with a twenty-minute run on the treadmill. Altogether, his workout only took forty minutes to complete, but it was important that he stuck to his exercise regimen everyday.

In the world they lived in, he couldn’t afford to look soft.

After that he took a long shower, lathering himself up in special hunter soap that he made himself. It was perfect for killing off his natural scent, and since he liked to heat his soap over smoked apple wood chips, it retained some of that heady scent. That way if anyone got too close into Dean’s personal space, close enough to his scent glands, they would think that Dean’s apple scent was more of an apple tree smell instead of the fruit.

Only omegas smelled like fruit, or sweet things.

Betas were mostly scentless, and the smells one could pick up from them were only for those who were directly on top of them, or if one became familiar with the scent. Like how Dean could easily make out his dad’s “new car smell,” but everyone else said his dad just had a clean smell about him.

That is, when it wasn’t overpowered by the smell of whiskey or tequila.

Still, Dean couldn’t risk smelling like anything other than what a beta would smell like.

After the shower, Dean crept back into his bedroom to find a black shirt—which admittedly made up the majority of his wardrobe—as well as his favorite olive green overshirt and a pair of jeans. As soon as the overshirt was on, he slapped on the patch that he was required by law to wear. It was a plain white patch, with only the Greek letter beta embroidered into it with gray thread. If he was an alpha it would have been the letter A embroidered with blue thread, and if male omegas openly existed, it would have been embroidered in red.

It was only after he was dressed that he gently prodded Sam’s shoulder. “Going to get started on breakfast. Get your ass downstairs in the next ten minutes.”

Sam grunted in response, but made no move to get up. Dean honked his little brother’s nose and immediately got slapped, but it did wake the kid up.

“You’re such a jerk!” Sam complained.

“Stop bitching and start getting ready. Today’s a big day for you, after all,” Dean said, plastering on a fake smile.

“Yeah, I guess.” Sam shrugged before slowly rolling out of Dean’s bed.

While Sam sorted out what he would need for the day, Dean left the room and headed for the kitchen. He was careful taking out the frying pans and plates, since the last thing he wanted to do was to deal with an irate and hungover John.

Sam sat down in his chair just in time for Dean to slide a batch of scrambled eggs and bacon onto his plate. He was already in his simple school uniform: a pair of black pants, a white button-up shirt, and a green-and-white striped tie. The white patch over his heart was empty, as his brother had not presented yet, but was still required to wear the blank patch. Everything about Sammy made him look like a young professional, except for his messy hair.

“Dude, do you even know how to use a brush?” Dean complained, combing through Sam’s hair with his fingers.

“Not like it makes a difference when you just end up fixing it anyway,” Sam grouched before slapping Dean’s hand away again. “Though would it kill you to serve some vegetables with breakfast?”

“My bad. Next time I’ll make hash browns.”

“I meant a _real_ vegetable. You know, something green?”

“Hey, potatoes can be green.”

“Yeah, but that usually means they’re slightly poisonous!”

Dean rolled his eyes as he got bombarded by Sammy’s speech about how green potatoes were actually potatoes that had gotten too much sunlight, and ended up converting into a toxin or some shit. The lecture was only interrupted when they heard a loud ding coming from the living room, followed by an instrumental version of their nation’s anthem.

Sam gave Dean a concerned look, but Dean just gestured for Sam to head towards the living room while Dean put his frying pan back on the stovetop. By the time he got to the living room himself, John was also awake, glaring angrily at the speaker system that was installed in the ceiling above them.

 _ **“Good morning denizens,”**_ a chirpy, feminine voice called out after the music was done playing. _**“Happy November 3rd, everyone, and happy first Monday of the new month! There are so many new and exciting things going on. This is the month to give thanks, especially for all the wonderful things the New Government has brought to us.”**_

Dean caught his dad rolling his eyes, and he was tempted to do the same.

_**“First, we want to remind everyone that today is the day when high school students across the nation submit their placement request forms. Remember, the fate of your future rests in how you fill out those forms!”** _

Sam tensed, but Dean placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and mouthed the words, “You’re going to be just fine,” and his little brother started to relax.

_**“Due to poor weather conditions from earlier in the week, the military personnel who have now reached twenty-one years of age are now being returned to their homes. Also returning home are the brave souls who served an additional five years to their country. Please be sure to give these brave warriors the support they deserve. Have a good day, and remember…”** _

“In the Legion we trust,” Dean, Sam, and John echoed emotionlessly. It was the only way to turn the intercom off, and it seriously freaked Dean out that it could listen in on them.

What else did it know?

There was a reason why John taught them to write when they had anything big to talk about, and immediately burned it so there was no evidence.

“Come on,” Dean told John, who was rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. “I made breakfast already, and then you can go take some ibuprofen.”

John nodded as he stumbled his way into the kitchen.

“You too, Sammy. You still need to eat.”

Sam rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Great, a family breakfast.”

“It will be great, you smartass,” Dean said, flicking the back of the kid’s ear. “Now sit yer ass down before I eat your share.”

Dean secretly agreed with Sam, as meals with a drunk or hungover John usually ended with some spat.

“So, Sammy,” John asked after taking a giant gulp of orange juice, “what did you put on your forms?”

“It’s Sam, not Sammy,” Sam grouched, poking at his eggs with his fork. “And if you were home more, you'd already know what I put down.”

“Sam,” Dean warned.

“It’s true.”

“Excuse _me_ for picking up extra shifts to support this family,” John barked back. “It’s not exactly easy getting a decent job when I have to have these fucking brands on my chest.”

John gestured angrily at his own beta patch, which, unlike Dean’s, had more than just the Greek B on it. In the upper left corner was the sigil of the marine’s sniper, a symbol of his father’s position and valor, especially since betas were not required to enlist like alphas were. In the right corner was a lowercase omega that was crossed out in bright red; this showed that John was once mated to an omega, but that she died under mysterious circumstances.

A possible omega killer.

There was a stigma about betas marrying omegas, as they weren’t considered strong enough to take proper care of their omega, or didn’t know how to properly provide for them. John had only been allowed to marry Mary because he enlisted in the marines to prove his worth as a strong mate. But when Mary died in a mysterious house fire that firemen had said was the work of an arsonist… well, even though there was no proof that John had been the one who caused it, there was enough speculation for people to make his life harder. John also made himself look worse by moving away from Lawrence right after the fire, which some people took as an admission of guilt.

John moving away without going through the proper government channels also angered their government officials, and instead of placing John in another mechanic job, they instead put him in a more “undesirable” position of dockworker, a monotonous, manual labor gig that had John do nothing more than move heavy boxes from one area to the next. A job that took so little brain power that John usually showed up there with some kind of buzz.

His unprofessional behavior also led to the embroidered alcohol bottle on the lower left end of his patch, signifying that he was an alcoholic. If John didn’t have that mark, he might have been able to make an appeal to their city council—who were a little more lenient than the higher branches of government—to get his old position back, but he never bothered.

It was a wonder that the government didn’t try to take Dean and Sam away from John when they were younger. Then again, the government had bigger priorities than making sure that kids were properly taken care of. As long as John gave them a roof over their heads and they weren’t starving, the government didn’t care.

“Ever think that maybe if you started going to AA then you could get a decent job? Hell, or maybe you wouldn’t have to work so many extra hours if you didn’t spend a quarter of your check on booze?” Sam snarked, viciously stabbing at his eggs.

John was starting to turn red, but before he had a chance to start berating Sam, Dean beat him to it. “Sam, no one asked you to pick a fight. Dad asked you about what you put on your forms. Hell, I’m curious too. Yeah, you said what you were interested in, but it’s one thing to say it and another thing to actually write it down.”

The request forms were a series of paperwork that each high school senior had to fill out to determine their future placements in the world once they had graduated and their designations had been presented. Many jobs were determined based on their designation, so it was important to fill out two separate forms, explaining in great detail which job they would like to have in each designation. Boys had to fill out for alphas and betas, while the girls had to fill out for betas and omegas.

“Well, it didn’t change. I told them I wanted to be a lawyer if I was an alpha, and a doctor if I was a beta.”

A lawyer was considered an alpha-only field, as they had to be aggressive in the courtroom. That and most lawyers eventually became politicians, and only alphas had the willpower strong enough to lead and protect their nation.

All jobs in medicine were allowed only for betas, as alphas were considered too aggressive to be in a nurturing field, and omegas shouldn’t waste their time going through all that education when they were needed at home.

“Great, both jobs that require a shit-ton of education,” John complained.

“Not like your cheap ass is going to pay for it anyway,” Sam bit back.

“Hey, knock it off, Sam,” Dean threatened. “Either we can be civil and you can eat the rest of your meal, or you can leave.”

Sam looked like he was debating it, but ultimately decided not to waste food. They had both grown up knowing how precious food was and not to squander it.

Dean nodded his head in thanks. “You know, when I had to fill out those forms I put down that I wanted to be a firefighter if I was an alpha, or a mechanic if I was a beta. Seems to be working out pretty well for me.”

Dean was finishing up the last year of his internship at Singer’s Salvage Yard, the place he had been assigned to after graduation. The plan was for him to take the place of an older mechanic, who was getting too old for some of the labor that mechanic work entailed.

Since his internship was only part-time and considered to be volunteer work, Dean made his income by working part-time at the Roadhouse, a bar and grill that belonged to the mother of one of Sam’s best friends. He started out as a busboy, but once he turned twenty-one he started serving drinks—and making triple the amount in tips. And because it wasn’t a salary based job, Dean didn’t need permission from the government to work there.

“Though that reminds me, am I picking you and your snot-nosed friends up from school?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You mean Jo and Garth? Yeah, we need a lift. We’re all going to be working at Jo’s place since we have that history project due soon. That way you can just take me home once you’re done your shift.”

“Okay, just don’t come crying to me when we don’t get back home until 3am,” Dean pointed out before finishing the last bit of bacon that was on his plate. “Speaking of, we need to get our asses in gear so you can get to school early. Since you’re picking competitive fields, the sooner your request form is in, the better.”

Sam nodded, grabbed his own pieces of bacon, and went back towards their room to get his backpack.

Dean turned his attention back to his dad, who was nodding off into his own plate of unfinished food. Dean reached out to try to wake his father before deciding it wasn’t worth it, and instead started cleaning up what he could of their breakfast.

He wasn’t expecting Sam to come back into the kitchen so soon, or to slip a piece of paper and pen into his hands.

_What are we going to do if I end up being like you?_

A valid fear that even Dean had.

 **We’ll figure it out.** Dean promised. **I’ve hidden it for 5 years, and Mom hid it for 13.**

No one outside of their family knew the truth.

Dean wasn’t a beta and his mother hadn’t been an omega. They were both something the government had insisted was impossible. Dean was a male omega while Mary had been a female alpha.

And it was Mary’s strange biology that had gotten her killed in the first place.


	3. Reality Check

Dean tried to fight back the yawn that was building—the last thing he needed was Sam or Jo to see him do it and tell Ellen that he was too tired to work his shift. Yeah, the extra time to sleep and relax would be nice, but Dean needed the pay and the tips. Especially the tips. With tonight being the first night many of the soldiers returned, Dean knew that every bar would be bustling with activity, cash flying as alphas drank to either celebrate that they made it home alive, or to forget how many people they had lost.

Dean remembered how last year he noticed a great chunk of his alpha classmates had been missing in the return, and wondered how many would be returning this year.

If Dean was being honest, he knew the answer wasn’t a lot.

Instead of going down that dark rabbit hole, Dean tuned back into the conversation the teen boppers were having in the back of the car.

“What did they say?” Garth, Sam’s equally gangly friend, asked Jo.

“Oh, the usual. ‘You need to take this more seriously. What are you going to do if you end up being an omega’? And I told them, one, both my parents were betas, so the chances of me being anything but a beta is astronomically low. Second, my mom owns her own business, so if I’m really desperate, I could just get a job from her.”

Sam laughed. “I’m sure they loved hearing that.”

“Yeah, they got all upset and offended. Apparently a bar is too dangerous a place for a little omega,” Jo mocked. “I told them Mom already had a couple of omegas waitressing for her and they just made a face. Like they were one of _those_ omegas.”

“I dare them to tell that to Pam. She’d probably whoop their asses,” Garth teased.

“Seriously,” Jo agreed. “And I don’t care what they say, there’s nothing that can stop them from letting me be a forensic pathologist!”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “You want to work with dead people?”

“I want to help police solve crimes and work with sharp pointy things,” Jo explained.

The kid always did have a knife fetish.

“What about you, Garth? What did you register yourself as?”

“A dentist if I’m a beta, or a sheriff if I’m an alpha. I’m really hoping I end up being a beta, but if I have to be an alpha, at least I know I’ll look good in the sheriff’s uniform.”

Dean doubted that. Though since the boy came from an upper middle class family, he might have a chance at returning home safe.

“I really want to be an alpha,” Sam sighed. “The hourly wage is higher, I don’t have to pay for any of my tuition, and I can actually start making some changes to the law.”

“You’d have to survive to your twenty-first birthday,” Dean growled. “And since your birthday is in May, you’ll be stuck serving longer than some of the other guys.”

“You make it sound like it’s a death sentence,” Sam said with a scoff.

“For many people, it is just that. And you have shittier odds than others.”

“Why’s that? I think I have better odds considering how Dad raised us to be mini soldiers.”

“It’s because you’d be sent right out on the front lines to be cannon fodder!” Dean snapped, loud enough that he startled the other kids.

Dean took a deep breath to try to calm himself down. “Sam, you had to noticed by now who comes back and who doesn’t. No one poor makes it out of the war, not when they have three long years of being a red shirt.”

Dean could see Garth’s horrified face in the mirror. “What? I thought everyone switched rotations.”

“Nope, it’s pretty fixed on economical status. The more money your family has, the comfier and safer the position is.”

“That can’t be true,” Sam said in disbelief.

“You’re a smart kid; do the math to figure out how many of our neighbors’ kids came back from war.”

“Didn’t your dad make it out okay?” Jo pointed out.

“Betas are used as snipers or medics, and are protected a little better. Medics because betas are apparently better around blood and know how to be nurturing, and snipers because betas are practically scentless so that the enemy can’t sniff them out. Because with all of the gear, and being out in the hot heat, everyone will be sweating and stinking up a storm,” Dean explained. “And Dad wasn’t poor growing up. Grandpa Henry was a researcher, and made some decent bucks back in their day. But Dad had to use up a good chunk of his inheritance to marry Mom—”

“Ewww,” Jo complained. “Your dad had to pay for your mom’s hand? Like a dowry?”

“It’s the law. If a beta wants to marry an omega, they have to prove themselves worthy. First they have to enlist in some branch of the military and serve for at least four years. After that you have to make a—this is going to sound awful but it’s the only way I know how to describe it—a security deposit. A huge chunk of cash that you can get back once you’ve been married for ten years and have at least one kid.”

“But Mom…” Sam couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Mom died when they were only married for six years, so Dad never got to see that money again. It’s one of the other reasons we’re struggling financially. Not only did Dad never get that money back, but he also had to pay for funeral expenses and the fees for letting his omega die under his watch.”

Sometimes Dean didn’t blame John for turning to the bottle for comfort.

“Damn. Is this why there’s not many Beta/Omega relationships?” Jo asked.

“I can’t say for sure, but that would make sense. It's a lot of extra hoops you gotta jump through to be together.”

“What about for Alpha/Beta relationships?” Garth questioned.

“Not really sure what hoops they have to juggle there, but I do know that they have the highest rates for divorce. Mainly because some knothead was expecting his wife to take care of him and the home, like an omega housewife, and doesn’t like it when she’s independent from him.”

“I heard some alphas don’t like the fact that they can’t really scent bond with them.” Jo imputed.

“You technically can. I mean, Dad’s a beta but he’s still scent bonded with Mom. It’s just harder and takes longer. Mom admitted that Dad couldn’t get the full scope of it like she did, but it didn’t make her love him any less. They were still true mates.”

“Huh, I thought only alphas and omegas could be true mates,” Garth admitted.

“Or two betas,” Jo pointed out, since her parents had been true mates as well.

“Your designation doesn’t reflect what your true mate’s designation is. They can be anything.”

Like his alpha mother and his beta father, or how his grandparents on the Campbells’ side were both alphas. Dean’s pretty sure that if two hot-blooded alphas could love each other, then the sweeter-in-nature omegas could also be together.

Though alpha-squared and omega-squared relationships were very much illegal.

“Not that many people get the chance to meet their true mates anymore. Between the constant wars, and the government making people either get married by thirty or be labeled a permanent bachelor, it makes it hard to find the one.”

“Think you’ll ever find the one, Dean?” Jo half teased, half flirted. It was no secret the younger girl had a big crush on Dean, much to Sam’s annoyance.

“Nah, I’m probably going to go bachelor. Less work.”

In reality, he doubted he could ever be with someone without the risk of them reporting what he really was. He’d have to be lucky and end up finding a female alpha, but the chances of that were slim.


	4. The Veterans

It wasn’t hard to spot them when they started arriving. The war veterans, that is. They were still donned in their uniforms, outfits that were too clean and stiff to have been worn before this day. They definitely hadn’t seen any combat, but Dean couldn’t say the same about the men. Many of them had scars, a limp, or a permanent grimace on their face. Some of them had the haunted look of a man that saw too much.

It was depressing to see how few twenty-one-year-olds were in the group. Dean had only counted two of them, when he knew that at least ten times that number had been sent out.

He knew that there was a possibility that those missing soldiers hadn’t had the chance to turn twenty-one yet. There was an even greater possibility that they would never reach that age.

The group of twenty-six-year-olds were easier to spot since each one had at least one medal adorning their coat, and had faces that looked like they were chiseled on because of how blank their expressions were. There was a small gathering of veterans that were at least trying to have fun. They had on forced smiles and were joking around, or trying to flirt with the betas in attendance. One of them was dumb enough to try to flirt with Pam, the omega waitress, and whatever she whispered into his ear caused his face to blanche in terror.

Three of those members broke apart from the gathering—or rather, two of them pulled the third away, literally dragging him towards the bar. The abductors were both betas based on their patches.

One of them was a male with blond hair, had half his shirt buttons undone like he was some kind of rockstar despite the left mark on his patch listing him as part of the air force.

The other beta was a brunette female who bore the patch of being a military nurse.

Interestingly, it was an alpha they were dragging over towards the bar. An alpha that was decorated in more ribbons than he had buttons on his coat.

The blond pushed the alpha to the nearest barstool before clambering onto the one next to him, and waved a hand over towards Dean.

“Barkeep, I have a drink request to make,” the man demanded in a surprising European accent.

Dean rolled his eyes before putting down the mug he had been drying. “Yeah. What do you want?”

“An Old Fashioned, please, if that isn’t too hard for you to pull off,” the man said with a sneer.

“You know, you have a lot of attitude for a foreigner,” Dean slipped, and immediately regretted it. It would be one thing for him to say that just to the European soldier, but he also said it in front of his high-honored alpha friend.

The male beta laughed. “I’m technically not a foreigner anymore. Served my new nation, and I am now a proud member of this beautiful Legion.”

Dean wondered how bad the rest of the world had to get in order for this country to seem like a safe haven.

“Now enough about politics, and go back to making me a drink. Don’t think I’ll be tipping you just for chatting.”

Actually, maybe the guy didn’t choose this country as much as he’d been kicked out of his original one, and the Legion had been the only place willing to put up with him.

Dean ignored the blond and turned towards the female beta instead. “What about you?”

“I’ll have a whiskey sour,” she said in a bored tone, like talking to Dean was the most tedious thing she’d done all day.

Dean nodded and finally took in the alpha sitting between them. He had dark hair that looked black in the poor lighting, and despite his uniform being impeccable, his hair looked like a bird tried to nest in it. The alpha looked up at him, and Dean was surprised by the vividness of his blue eyes. He didn’t think people could actually have eyes that blue without them being digitally altered.

“W-what...” Dean had to swallow, confused as to why he was suddenly having trouble with his words. “What would you like?”

The man squinted in thought as he debated what to get, “Can I get a…glass of water?”

Both his beta companions looked at the alpha with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

“Water? You do know you’re at a bar, right?” Dean scoffed and once again regretted it. The last thing he should want to do was infuriate an alpha, especially one who was a decorated hero.

“I…am admittedly unsure. I’ve never had the occasion to drink before, and there are more options than I thought.”

Dean stared at him in surprise before he remembered that the man hadn’t been on home soil since he was eighteen, which meant this was his first time being home while legal to drink. Though most alphas drank before they turned eighteen, as there was no promise that they would be able to do it legally in the future.

“I can give you a suggestion, if you’d like. Something that tastes good, but isn’t that strong.”

The alpha smiled at Dean. “I would appreciate that very much.”

Dean shrugged, trying not to smile back. “Nothing special, it’s just a rum and coke.”

“Still, I appreciate the fact you wanted to help.”

“How about you thank me if you like it?”

“Alright, I’ll save my gratitude until then.”

Dean nodded and quickly turned away in favor of preparing the drinks. He didn’t know why, but there was something about the alpha that was making him flustered.

Actually, who was Dean kidding. He knew exactly why.

The dark, wild hair? The five o'clock shadow? Those bright blue eyes? Dean would have to be blind to not notice that the alpha was attractive. However, Dean was not stupid enough to show it.

Not only were same-sex relationships on the list of felonies, but the last thing Dean’s family needed was another reason to mark him as abnormal. Or worse, think of him as just another desperate omega who wanted an alpha knot.

Shaking his head, Dean quickly made the order, serving the alpha first, followed by the lady, and giving Mr. Accent his last.

“Hey, I ordered my drink first! Why did I get it last?”

“Sorry, guess I wasn’t smart enough to remember the correct order,” Dean grouched then cringed when he realized he had openly insulted the veteran again.

Shit, if he kept this up he was going to end up getting jumped behind the bar.

To Dean’s astonishment, the female beta laughed while the alpha smiled gently into his own glass.

The blond beta growled in annoyance. “What? Is no one going to come to my aid?”

“You’re a big boy, you should be able to fight your own battles,” the brunette taunted before taking a giant gulp of her drink.

“You were rude to him before; he had every right to his commentary,” the alpha explained.

“Hmph. Well I can see when I’m not wanted,” the blond complained before scouting around the room. “But I think I see someone who does. And nurse Billie looks like she could use some company herself.”

The beta turned around and shot his companions a wink before striding over towards the dark-skinned nurse who looked like she’d rather be anywhere but this bar.

“How much do you bet that he’s going to get his ass kicked?” the beta nurse asked.

“I don’t bet on a given thing,” the alpha responded, then took a tentative sip at his own drink. “Oh, this is good. It… it has a bit of a coconut taste to it...?”

Dean shrugged. “That’s my personal touch. I like using coconut rum. Gives it a sweeter taste and less burn. It’s a good drink for first-timers.”

“Well I for one am finding it very enjoyable.”

“Thanks, but do you mind telling me whose tab is this going under? As much as I enjoy making people happy, I have bills to pay.”

The alpha blushed. “Yes, I’ll be sure to cover all of our expenses.”

The brunette perked up at that. “Free drinks? Oh, Clarence, you shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, I should. I know both you and Balthazar had no intention of paying for tonight.”

“And that’s why they made you captain. Always using that head of yours.” She smiled and chugged the rest of her drink. “I’ll be sure to reclaim more of my drinks later tonight, but first I have some real men to mingle with. And I’ll be damned if Balthazar gets a phone number before I do.”

The alpha closed his eyes and let out a sigh of defeat. “Whatever you two bet on this time, just remember not to break any laws or scar anyone. Especially mentally.”

“You know, you don’t always have to be a stick in the mud,” the woman said, then shot a glance at Dean. “Do me a favor, won’t you? Get some real drinks in this man. Get him at least buzzed by the time I get back and I will give you a hundred credits in tips.”

“Deal,” Dean agreed, knowing he could use each and every one of those credits.

The alpha rolled his eyes, but made no argument on the bet. The beta smirked and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Sure you don’t want to join me on the prowl?”

The alpha blushed redder and shook his head. “I think I’ll be more content here. But thank you for the invitation.”

“Can’t say I didn’t try,” she said with a shrug before sauntering off towards a handsome civilian near the back.


	5. Mai Tais & Blue Eyes

Dean placed another rum and coke in front of the alpha. “So, Clarence, is it?”

“Actually, it’s Castiel. Meg just refuses to call me by my real name.”

“Oh. Umm, well, I’m Dean.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly, wondering where his usual suave nature decided to hide today. “Not that you really needed to know that. Just figured I should introduce myself before I try to get you drunk.”

Castiel smiled. “Hello, Dean.”

Fuck, why did that sentence send a shiver down Dean’s spine? He’s heard that phrase thousands of times in his life, but it never felt this poignant before.

“So, umm...” Dean coughed to clear his throat. “Why aren’t you joining your friends?”

“Because they are trying to get dates out of this evening, and I am unable to do that,” Castiel stated, like it was obvious.

“Why’s that? I mean, you’re a handsome fellow.” Dean felt his face burn red. “I mean, objectively speaking. Not that I’m objectifying you, I just mean…. You know what, how about I start getting some whiskey in you so we can forget all about this little blunder?”

Castiel laughed. “I wouldn’t mind remembering this. As for why I’m not able to do that… well, Balthazar and Meg have some liberties as betas that I do not have. They have four years to determine whether or not they want a mate, whereas I am encouraged to find one within the next year.”

Dean looked at Castiel, trying to process what he said. “Wait, are you from a super traditionalist family or something? Don’t tell me you already have a betrothed candidate set up.”

Castiel slumped deeper into his seat. “Actually, I have _three_ candidates arranged by my father and brothers.”

Dean ignored the irrational pang of disappointment he felt. “You sure sound chipper about it.”

Castiel frowned and drained his glass. “I’m… not. It’s not that I’m opposed to it, and I have faith that one of my matches will be a good one. I’m sure one of the candidates will be the omega of my dreams… but I can’t help but be jealous sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, for a second letting himself daydream about what it would be like if what he was wasn’t a disgrace against nature. That he could be who he was without having to hide or live in fear.

“But you’re a beta? You can have your choice of who you want, right?”

Dean forced himself back into reality and reminded himself what patch he bore. “You mean I have my pick of betas. If I fall in love with an omega I’m screwed because I can’t afford the Omega Insurance.”

Castiel frowned. “But betas only attract other betas, just as alphas and omegas—”

“Don’t say it,” Dean half-demanded, half-pleaded. “Just...that’s a lot of bullcrap that people say to keep the designations separate.”

“But it’s the truth. Everyone knows—”

“The majority isn’t the rules of the whole,” Dean argued. “My parents were true mates; Dad is a beta and my mom… my mom wasn’t.”

Castiel luckily didn’t question the tense change, but he still didn’t seem satisfied with the answer. “Betas don’t even have true mates. They can’t smell—”

“Yeah, they can’t really smell it like alphas or omegas can, but they can still feel the connection. And both my parents felt it. Hell, Dad went through Mate Grief once Mom died.”

Mate Grief was the common term for what happened after a true mate died. True mates were hormonally linked, and when one of them died the survivor’s hormones would go haywire. Not only would they become irritable and emotional, but they would also become dangerously ill. John had ended up in the hospital for symptoms mimicking cardiac arrest. There were even concerns about him needing a heart transplant until a surgeon recognized the signs of Mate Grief.

“I... I apologize,” Castiel said, looking ashamed. “I always thought those were just fairytales. I mean, true mates themselves sound like nothing but tall tales.”

“The way people tell it is a load of bull,” Dean admitted before sliding another drink towards Castiel. “They say that you only have one true mate in your lifetime, but that’s not how it goes. It’s also not true love at first sight.”

“Then how would you describe it?”

“It’s like… do you know how sometimes you’re just drawn to people? Some people are just easier to talk to than others?”

“Yes,” Castiel admitted, seeming to lean closer onto the table.

“Well, that’s what true mates are. They are like the people that you are naturally drawn to, only… I don’t know, more? It’s like they have the perfect foundation for you to build something on top of, but it’s up to the both of you to make something out of it. And it’s really once you’ve built something lasting that you become a true mate.” Dean frowned as he tried to remember what his mom’s journal had said about the subject. “Mom was with Dad for almost a year before she realized that he was the one. It was like she could suddenly smell him everywhere, even when they were in different rooms, and his scent was enough to calm her no matter what. She could always tell what he needed, and he could do the same for her. It was like they were linked.”

“I think I like that notion,” Castiel said softly, looking into his drink. “That your true mate could be anyone, but you don’t know unless you nurture the relationship. Like taking care of a seed, and it growing into a beautiful tree that can survive generations.”

“Yeah, like that.” Dean smiled, bittersweet, wondering what his parents would be doing now if their relationship had not been severed by death.

He tried not to think about how horrified Mary would be if she could see them now.

“Does this mean you’re waiting for your true mate?” Castiel asked, disrupting Dean from his thoughts.

“Me?” Dean laughed before mixing up the next drink for the alpha. He seemed to enjoy the rum so it was time to start giving him drinks with more of a punch. “I don’t really think I’m the settling down type. Plus, doubt anyone would really want to put up with me for the rest of their lives.”

Castiel frowned, though eyed Dean curiously as he began to combine the coconut rum, fresh lime, pineapple juice, and orange Curaçao together. “You’re very young. How do you know you’ll never meet the right person?”

“Let’s just say it’s a gut feeling. Plus, someone’s got to take care of my little brother and my dad. That and I have two jobs. Don’t really have the time to be dating.”

“You could always have a Matchmaker try to find you a decent match.”

Dean raised his brow as he shook the ingredients together loudly. “Really? Man, weren’t you just sighing over that? I mean, I get that some people have managed to find their mate that way, but it just feels like cutting corners to me. Um, no offense?”

“None taken.” Castiel sighed again, though perked up at the sunset-colored drink in front of him, now with a layer of dark rum on top, and decorated with pineapple pieces. “What’s this?”

“A Mai Tai. It’s pretty much fruit juice and rum, figured you’d like it,” Dean said with a shrug, belatedly realizing that he just gave the alpha a girly drink. A drink that only omegas and female betas ordered.

Dean braced himself for the angry onslaught of an alpha who felt like the colorful drink was demeaning. Instead, Castiel took a giant gulp of the drink and smiled wide.

“That is delicious. You know, I’m glad that you talked me out of just having a glass of water. To think I would have missed out on all these new drinks.”

Dean tried not to blush. “Well if you like it so much, I’ll be sure to make you another one. Though, real quick, do you want to know what your total is so far?”

“I have $500 in credits that I can spend gallivanting around tonight. Just warn me if I’m getting too close to that mark.”

“Word of advice, dude,” Dean hissed, “don’t advertise how many credits you have on you, especially when you plan to keep on drinking. That’s an easy way for you to get mugged.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and gestured towards one of the many ribbons decorating his coat. “These aren’t just for show. I am highly trained in combat.”

“Yeah, and you've never been drunk before. Trust me, it’s a whole other ballgame trying to fight while the room is spinning on you.”

“Fine, I’ll be more careful in the meantime,” Castiel grumbled, but still took a sip from his drink.

Dean noticed a couple more soldiers further down flag him for some drinks, and by the time he returned, Castiel looked like he was deep in thought.

“You starting to feel something, bud?”

Castiel startled, but then smiled again when he saw Dean. “I do feel a little warmer than I did before, but besides that I don’t feel compromised or different in any way. I’m not really sure if this is a good or bad sign.”

“Good sign for your tolerance, bad sign for me if your friend comes back here and sees that you’re still sober.”

“Oh, then I suppose for your benefit I should have another one of those My Tye thingies.”

“Mai Tai, and another one coming right up.” Dean busied himself with making the next drink, trying hard not to pay attention to how easily the alpha was smiling now, or of how light and airy Dean felt each time the man gifted one of those remarkable smiles to him.

Castiel only made things worse by smiling wider when Dean placed another drink next to him. “Thank you. I need to remember that I like these drinks.”

“Not everyone makes them the same way I do. Your best bet is to stop by here and just ask for me,” Dean said, and felt his gut plummet when he realized he was flirting with the alpha.

The alpha frowned, and Dean had a moment of panic wondering if the guy was going to turn him in. He was a high-ranking military official, it would be easy for him to tell someone about Dean’s inappropriate behavior and have him locked up forever.

If Dean was lucky.

Dean was so distracted by his fears that he missed the first part of what Castiel said in response.

“—I can’t.”

“Huh?”

“I said, I wish I could but I can’t. I’m only stationed—err, staying here for the night. I actually live at the Capitol.”

Dean blinked in surprise, noticing that the alpha did sound and look disappointed. “What are you doing all the way in Kansas if you are from the Capitol?”

Now that Dean thought of it, Castiel really didn’t fit in with the other Kansans. He had that uptight attentiveness of cityslicker, compared to the more laid back attitude of the typical resident of a small town.

“Meg is actually from this area. Balthazar and I both had time for leisure, so we decided to accompany her, and I’ll head back home in the morning.”

“You might want to wait until later in the afternoon for that trip. It doesn’t look like either of your friends are going to leave this place before closing time,” Dean said, and gestured behind Castiel.

Meg was dancing with one of the soldiers, wrapped around him so tight that it reminded Dean of a snake before it devoured its prey. Balthazar was flirting with a small cluster of female betas, though the woman he originally was after was nowhere in sight. Dean admittedly regretted that he hadn’t seen how that played out.

Castiel sighed in defeat and took another sip. “I told my brothers I would be home in time for supper, but I don’t think I have the energy or the interest to rush home with no sleep. We can have a welcome home breakfast the following day instead.”

“Brothers? How many siblings do you have?” Dean asked, after serving a couple more drinks to soldiers and civilians alike.

“Three older brothers. Two of them are alphas, but Gabriel, my favorite brother, is a beta.” Castiel frowned into his drink. “He’s also the only one who chose to be a bachelor, but Father didn’t try as hard to make him settle.”

“Because he’s a beta?”

“That and because the woman he fell in love with died in a car accident.”

Dean flinched. “At least your old man let him grieve. What about the other two? Did they get to choose who they married or was it all…”

“It was all from matches that they had agreed on. I suspect they’re all happy families of their own by now,” Castiel stated simply, though he didn’t look as convinced.

“So what’s next for you? You know, now that you’re a free man.”

Castiel frowned, stroking the condensation off of the side of his glass. “Honestly? Whatever my father decides.”

Dean looked at Castiel, confused, and asked, “Didn’t you have to fill out one of those request forms when you were younger?”

“Yes and no. I filled out one that stated that my father would determine my best placement.”

A rich boy, though Dean shouldn’t have been surprised considering that Castiel not only survived eight years in war, but also managed to rise ranks. However, only rich fathers who owned their own company could afford the luxury of handing in a blank form. In one way it was good, because the kid was guaranteed a job where they could rise through the ranks and make a fortune, but sucked because they had no choice in the matter.

“What would you have put down, if you had a choice?”

Castiel blushed, but didn’t answer.

“I put down that I wanted to be a firefighter as an alpha and a mechanic as a beta.”

Castiel looked at him in confusion. “But you’re a bartender...?”

“Part-time. I’m still under twenty-three so I can only get two part-time jobs,” he said. When Castiel looked at Dean in confusion, he continued on. “Since alphas can’t join the workforce until after their twenty-first birthday, and still need additional training, a law was passed recently that young betas can’t work more than twenty-five hours at a single job, so they didn’t have an unfair advantage compared to the veterans. That and the government counts your intended career as an internship, so places don’t have to pay you, and then you need another job to pay your expenses.”

“That doesn’t sound fair.”

“Yeah, not really. But I can’t complain too much; I got placed at Singer Salvage, and I’ve done their books enough times to know that they can’t afford to pay me more than a couple of bucks here and there. The only reason I’m going to get a real paycheck by next year is because Rufus, the other mechanic, will be retiring, so I get his position and wages.”

“That’s unfortunate. Aren’t you worried that you are stationed in a… well, to be frank, a failing business?”

“Nah, the only reason it’s not doing as well is because Rufus can’t take on as many cars as he used to, and because he doesn’t know how to handle the newer car models. When my hours double, I’ll be able to take on more projects.”

Castiel nodded. “It seems like you are happy with the prospect.”

“Yeah. I mean, I like working with cars, and I like being able to fix things. Plus, I really like my boss, Bobby,” Dean said as he gave Cas another drink, this time doubling the rums.

“I hope that I will be as fortunate. My brothers both seem to like the fields they are in, but… I still have concerns.”

“I don’t blame you, I’d have hated it if I had no control over where I got placed.”

“It’s not an enjoyable feeling,” Castiel admitted. “I’m realizing now just how little free will I have in my life.”

Castiel rested his head in his hands, and sighed, “My father chose for me to spend eight years in the military to learn how to be a good leader and a real alpha. He’s choosing where I will be working, and he’s picked out the omega he wants me to marry.”

Dean hated the way he gripped the counter tight at that statement; not liking the sound of this attractive alpha being forced to marry an omega he might only tolerate, not love. Castiel deserved an omega he loved, and who loved him, but Dean had no reason to feel so… so jealous.

“You know something? I never admitted this to anyone but… I actually wished that I was a beta like Gabriel. I really wanted to be a botanist, but that’s only a beta career.”

“Botanist? Like studying plants?”

Castiel blushed, explaining, “I’ve always been fascinated with plant life. When I was younger, I would spend hours helping out the gardener and learning the names of each one and how to properly take care of them. As I got older, I also started to learn some of the medical effects that some of them have.”

“Huh, like what?”

“Well, there’s this tree known as Prickly Ash, that if you chew on a small part of the leaves, it will numb your mouth. It’s used as an oral anesthetic.”

Dean laughed. “No way, that can’t be real.”

“It is. People have been using it for toothaches for centuries. I even saw one in an arboretum before and the tour guide let us try a piece. It was an interesting experience, and my only regret is that I wasn’t allowed to take any leaves back to use on Gabriel.”

Dean snickered. “Didn’t take you as the prankster type, Cas.”

Castiel tilted his head at the sudden nickname, but made no commentary on it, instead saying, “I’m not, but I do hold a grudge. Gabriel is the prankster in the family, and one of these days I’m going to get him back.”

“Well, I happen to be a prank king myself, so if you ever need help with your revenge scheme, let me know.”

Dean wanted to kick himself after saying that. He wasn’t Castiel’s friend, and the man would be long gone by tomorrow. He needed to stop deluding himself into thinking that they’d ever have more than tonight to interact.

“I think I will need to keep that in mind. I hope that after eight years, Gabriel has calmed down a little, but I’m doubtful.”

Dean couldn’t imagine what it would be like to not see his brother for eight years. Hell, just the thought of Sam serving three years overseas made his skin crawl and his stomach want to revolt. Dean didn’t know if their mother being an alpha had lowered or increased their chances of having that chromosome in their genes. He also didn’t want Sam to be a freak like he was either. He just needed his brother to be a normal, boring beta.

Was that too much to ask?

Not wanting to think about Sam’s future designation anymore, Dean went back to making sure that all of his other customers were happy, and even stopped to chat with a couple of the locals. When Dean came back over towards Castiel, he wasn’t expecting the alpha to be sitting forlornly at his seat, swirling his straw dejectedly around the empty glass. Dean was going to ask the man if everything was alright, but the moment the alpha looked up, his eyes brightened and he smiled wide.

Castiel looked at Dean like he was waiting for the man, and for a moment Dean let himself believe it. That this alpha felt the same weird connection that Dean was feeling; that he was enjoying every moment he got to spend with Dean. That fantasy quickly vanished as reality hit. Of course Castiel was looking for him; his friends had abandoned him in favor of flirting with the other singles, and Dean was the only one that was keeping the man entertained.

That and Castiel’s empty glass needed refilling.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Dean said, robotically getting out the other ingredients.

“Actually, may I just have some water for this round?”

“Oh, um, sure,” Dean said, getting out a clean glass and quickly filling it with water. “Was the taste getting to you?”

“Sort of? Honestly—” Castiel shifted nervously, “—I would prefer making less work for you. You already have enough work on the side, and I keep stealing up more of it by chatting with you.”

Dean swallowed nervously and asked, “Is this the nice way of saying that I talk too much and that I should leave you alone?”

“No,” Castiel exclaimed, looking horrified at the very idea. “I just… I really enjoy your company, and… I hoped having a less complicated drink would give us more time to talk.”

Dean was smiling so wide that his cheeks were hurting, but he didn’t care.

“That sounds nice, Cas.”

Castiel’s answering smile was just as wide, maybe even wider—Dean could even make out the pinks of his gums.

It was Dean’s favorite smile of the evening, and Dean realized this man was going to be big trouble for Dean’s heart.


	6. Blooming Friendship

When Meg and Balthazar first discussed their plans for spending their first night on home soil in a bar, Castiel had been… well apprehensive would be one word for it.

His idea for the day had been to see the sights of the Kansas landscape, treat his comrades to an extravagant dinner, and spend the remainder of the night catching up on some of the blockbuster hits that they had missed while fighting for their country, as well as gorging themselves on junk food.

But Balthazar had deemed his idea as boring, and Meg argued about how she could do that any day. What they both wanted was an excuse to “get shitfaced and dance the night away.”

Castiel didn’t see the appeal, and had dreaded the impending bar scene. What he wasn’t expecting was the charming bartender.

Dean was all warm eyes, confident smiles, and a voice that Castiel loved listening to. He enjoyed how animated the beta would get, talking a mile a minute on subjects he was passionate about, but how he would also get flustered and shy when he thought he was talking too much. Castiel personally loved whenever the beta would babble, and the only moments he got annoyed during their time together were when Dean had to attend to the other customers. He didn’t know why, but he hated it whenever the bartender stopped to talk to others, and felt a mixture of sadness and anger when Dean would smile or laugh at someone else.

Castiel had been very tempted to ask Dean how much it would cost to close the bar off to everyone save for him, but he also knew that his possessiveness would be unwelcomed. Or have any merit to it, as he was only an acquaintance to Dean.

Come tomorrow, Castiel was unlikely to ever see Dean again. A thought that made Castiel uneasy and foolhardy enough to want to call his father and ask him if there was a position open in Kansas instead of in the Capitol.

Instead of worrying about that, Castiel kept his attention on Dean.

“So there I am, trying to figure out how to make Mom’s special Winchester Surprise. I remember it was a lot of beef, pork, cheese, and Fritos on top, but all I had available was a bunch of canned food that the previous occupants of the house left behind and a box of mac and cheese.”

“This sounds dangerous,” Castiel said, though his lips were trembling from repressed laughter. Part of Castiel felt bad about laughing about the trials a younger Dean had to go through in order to feed himself and his younger brother, but the other part couldn’t help but laugh at the excited energy Dean used to tell the story.

“Oh, it was. It ended up being spam, powdered cheese, and dried macaroni on top to give it an extra crunch. Oh, though we technically got beef in there as well, the true crowning glory of the meal.”

“I feel like I should be afraid.”

“Oh, you should. It turned out to be beef-flavored dog food,” Dean howled, laughing.

Castiel laughed as well. “How did you not know it was dog food?”

“I had Sam hand me cans that he thought could replace beef and pork; he saw the word ‘beef’ on there and didn’t think anything of it. I had no idea until I found the can later that night.”

“Did you actually eat it?”

“Heck yes. Sure, it had a funny aftertaste and was a little too crunchy, but it kept us full.”

Castiel frowned, hearing the words that Dean hadn’t wanted to admit. He and his brother had been starving, their father was nowhere in sight, and they had to do what they could to survive.

Castiel was personally grateful that neither Dean or his brother were girls, especially a future omega. He could only imagine how dangerous of a situation that would be for an omega. Even if it left no physical evidence, it would leave mental scars that might permanently impair them. After all, omegas weren’t built like their stronger beta counterparts, and needed top care to thrive.

Omegas were soft-spoken, gentle, and vulnerable; they needed protection, especially since most of their aptitude went to child rearing. Whereas betas were sharp-witted, intelligent, and able to handle hard labor. It’s one of the many reasons why beta females were allowed all of the job opportunities that male betas had.

The bartender in front of him was the epitome of the resilience that made a beta. Castiel’s brothers believed that alphas were the strongest designation, especially with their increased strength when angered, but during his eight years overseas it had been the betas that had been his greatest allies.

Dean in particular brought Castiel a sense of peace he hadn’t realized he was missing before, and he desperately wanted to do whatever he could to keep that man smiling. Even if it meant humiliating himself in the process.

“I’ve never had dog food before, but once Gabriel did switch a tuna can out for cat food tuna. He switched the labels and the poor cook didn’t notice the difference. Admittedly we didn’t either, since our cook was very skilled. We only found out later because Gabriel couldn’t stop giggling during our meal.”

“Talk about some fine cuisine for cats.”

“Not really. The recipe had onion in it, which is actually toxic for cats to have,” Castiel explained, only to chide himself later. He always did that, bringing up unwanted facts in a jovial environment.

“Huh, I didn’t know that. Then again, you’re the plant expert, not me,” Dean said, actually looking impressed. “Did you have the chance to read about plants during your service?”

Castiel blushed and fiddled with his drink—a gin and tonic this round since the other drinks had a lot of sugar in them—and debated on how to explain himself. “Science isn’t really a field alphas are encouraged to pursue. It’s more important for them to find their niches in government work instead of wasting time in a laboratory.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he said, “That sounds like some rehearsed bullcrap to me.”

Castiel ducked his head, but was unable to deny it, saying, “It never made sense to me either, especially since I only wished to read about them in leisure.”

“You know, I could probably pick you up some of those books if you want. Since I’m a beta and all.”

Castiel didn’t think about the logistics of the statement, or how he could probably bother his gardener, Joshua, if he really wanted some books. He wasn’t as helpless to get the material as he was in the middle of a warzone, but the thought of Dean wanting to go out of his way to do something nice for him was too much. The excuse of getting to see him one last time, on more equal footing, was also too tempting.

He already wasn’t going to make it home in time for supper tomorrow; why not push for another couple of hours?

“There’s only one slight problem I can think of in this scenario. You don’t know what books I would like, or which ones I have already read before.”

“Shit,” Dean cursed, looking dejected. “Didn’t think about that.”

“The only way I can think of remedying this is by going along with you. It has been a while since I’ve been to a bookstore, and I would enjoy the company.”

Dean’s face went through myriad expressions; from disappointed to confused to worried and even downright scared before finally settling on a wide smile and bright eyes.

“I’d really like that,” Dean said, looking a little bashful. “Wait, don’t you have a plane to catch, though?”

“Yes, but I haven’t booked a ticket yet, so there’s no true deadline. In addition, I’ve finally returned home from almost a decade on the battlefield; I think I’m more than entitled to decide how I wish to spend my leisure time.”

Dean smiled shyly at Castiel, and Castiel couldn’t help but beam at him in return.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Meg, is our Cassie _smiling_?”

Castiel grimaced, his face immediately falling back into his default stoicism at the proclamation from Balthazar.

“Oh look, he’s back to normal,” Meg teased before sliding back into her previous seat. Dean immediately stopped leaning over the bar and looked a little bashful. “Good job, barkeep. Clarence must be buzzed if he looked that happy.”

Dean shrugged and asked, “Can I get you anything?”

“How about whatever made Clarence so giddy? I could sure use some of that,” Meg complained.

“I think that would probably be the Mai Tais,” Dean admitted before hurrying over to get the ingredients and, for some reason, standing further away from them than he usually did when mixing the drinks.

Castiel frowned, hoping that this was not a precursor for how the rest of the evening would go.

“Sorry if you were bored while we were gone. Though I’m happy to report that I have earned a different date for every night for the rest of this week,” Balthazar bragged with a suggestive wink.

“Pig,” Meg complained.

“Awww, don’t be jealous, Meggie. I promise I can squeeze you in if you ever decide to give up your pretense and admit you like me.”

“I’d rather shove my fork down my throat.”

“Now, dear, there are much better things you can put down there. Like my—”

“Balthazar!” Cas snapped.

“What? I was just being honest.”

Castiel shook his head, and frowned further when Dean delivered the drink to Meg before scurrying further down the bar counter to talk to a group of men who still had drinks in front of them.

“I think your ugly mug is making Clarence depressed. He hasn’t smiled once since you started talking.”

“Oh don’t play that game,” Balthazar groaned. “We both know that the real issue is that Cassie lost his friend because _you_ scared him off.”

Castiel felt the urge to hit his head repeatedly on the table. Why did his companions have to be so obnoxious? And why was Dean refusing to make eye contact with him now?

“Fine, then I guess it’s my job to fix it,” Meg said, pulling her fingers to her lips and letting out an ear-piercing whistle.

Dean immediately whirled around for the source of the sound, while Castiel sank into his chair from both embarrassment and pain.

“Meg,” Castiel whined. “I know a beta’s hearing isn’t as strong as an alpha’s, but please refrain from making that awful sound so close to my ears again.”

“Sorry, Captain, but I think you’ll thank me later,” Meg said with a wink before looking back at Dean. “First, let me thank you for taking care of our friend. I think I owe you a big tip.”

Dean shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Yeah, but it’s no big deal if you can’t pay me in full.”

“Nope, a deal is a deal. Here you go, $100.”

Dean looked back and forth between Meg, the card in her hand, and Castiel. He quickly shook his head. “I appreciate it, but that’s too much.”

Meg raised a brow. “Too much? But that’s what I wagered.”

“Yeah, but the deal was to get Cas buzzed. He’s been drinking mostly water for the last half an hour.”

Castiel frowned, wondering what was going on, and why Dean didn’t just take the money.

Balthazar, however, seemed confused about another matter, asking, “What? Cassie was smiling like that sober? What witchcraft do you have over him?”

Castiel shot Balthazar a glare only for his friend to dramatically clasp his hands above his heart and groan, “See! All I get from Cassie are angry glares, or looks of disappointment.”

“Maybe it’s just a _you_ reaction, and not a Cas thing,” Dean mumbled before turning back towards Meg. “Anyway, I should head back to work. Feel free to tip me what you want, but I don’t need you to follow through on the bet.”

Before anyone had a chance to say anything else, Dean scurried as far away from the trio as he could.

Castiel wanted to sigh in disappointment, but instead turned towards his associates and glared at them. “What was all of that about? We were having an interesting chat before you so rudely interrupted.”

“Oops, our bad,” Balthazar insincerely apologized before taking a sip of his original Old Fashioned. “Bleh! This is all warmed and watered down.”

“That’s because you abandoned it over an hour ago,” Castiel grumpily pointed out.

Meg, meanwhile, was still looking at Dean. “He turned down easy cash because he had fun talking to you…”

“Pardon?”

Meg whirled around in her seat and said, “That’s why he didn’t take the money. He felt bad because he was having a good time messing around with you.”

“When did you suddenly become psychic, Megara?” Balthazar teased, only to get hit in the face by a napkin ball.

“It’s called paying attention and analyzing the situation.”

Castiel looked down at the counter, staring at the condensation marks that his drinks had left on the wood. “Why does that matter?”

“It means that he wasn’t being nice to you for a big tip,” Meg said. She leaned around Balthazar and shot Castiel a look. “How about you go signal him back over, and Balthazar can finally show me if he knows how to dance?”

“Why the bloody hell would I want to—” Whatever Balthazar was going to say next was cut off by a deep intake of breath. “I… I mean, of course, Meg. I’d be delighted to show a little she-demon like you how to properly dance.”

“Then what are you waiting for, twinkle toes? Let’s dance.”

Castiel noted that Balthazar limped as he got out of his seat, but made no point in drawing attention to it. Especially not when Dean looked back over at him, his lips twitching into a bashful smile.

Oh well, his family was the one who made him enlist for eight years; they could wait another day or two for him to return home. This was the first time that Castiel could actually live for himself, and he knew the moment he went back home he’d lose this rare freedom.

After all, what harm was there in making a new friend?


	7. Closing Time

“Okay, boys and girls, I hate to break up the fun but it’s closing time and we gotta clean this place up and get ready for business for tomorrow,” Ellen, Dean’s beta boss, announced as she opened the front doors and gestured for people to pack up their shit and move out.

Castiel looked at Dean, confused. “What time is it?”

“If Ellen’s kicking people out then it must be 12:30 AM.”

Castiel gaped at Dean and said, “It can’t be that late. That means we’ve been talking for over five hours!”

“Yeah.” Dean shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “I guess we did? Though we lost some time in between with me serving everyone else.”

“Still, it didn’t feel that long.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said. He rubbed the back of his neck, hating how flustered this alpha made him feel. If Dean wasn’t careful, he’d look like some stupid omega in one of those chick flicks that he totally didn’t like.

“Were you serious?” Castiel asked, slowly getting out of his seat, moving like it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Dean wasn’t sure if that was because of the alcohol in the alpha’s system or because he was reluctant to say goodbye. Dean hoped for the latter.

“Serious about what?”

“Meeting up tomorrow to check out the bookstore?” Castiel broached cautiously.

Dean didn’t think it was possible for an alpha male to look so nervous and vulnerable over such a simple request. Even stranger, Dean found himself smiling gently in return.

“Yeah! I mean, as long as it doesn’t mess with your plans. Didn’t you have a flight to catch?”

“As I said before, I haven’t bought a ticket, and I can always buy one later. I could even afford to stay out here for a couple of days if I wanted to.”

“Really? Because I wouldn’t mind showing you more of the sights if you’re interested.”

What the hell was Dean even saying? If John heard any word of this then Dean would be a dead man.

Hell, if the government caught wind of this then he’d _literally_ be a dead man.

But seeing Castiel’s answering smile made it feel worth the risk.

“I’d really enjoy that. So how do you want to meet up at this bookstore? I don’t have a vehicle of my own at the moment, but I can find a way to—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick you up at, say… 1 PM? Plus, this way I can give you a bit of a tour, and we can also sleep in.”

Not that Dean could sleep in too much, considering he still needed to get Sam to school in the morning. Good thing Bobby didn’t need him at work the next day, or he’d really be dead on his feet.

“Yes. Yes, that sounds very doable. I’ll see you then,” Castiel said before slowly moving towards the door.

“Yeah.” Dean smiled but then realized something. Castiel’s face brightened and he waited for Dean to continue. “I… have no idea where the hell you’re staying. Or how to get a hold of you.”

“Oh right. I sadly haven’t gotten my hands on a phone yet, since this is my first day back. However, I can write down the address I’m staying at...?”

“Right, umm, here,” Dean said as he quickly jotted down his own number before handing over the pen and notebook he kept in his pocket.

Castiel tore out Dean's number to put in his pocket, quickly scribbled the address down, but took his time in handing the note over to him, saying, “I guess this is goodbye for now?”

“Yeah, but technically only for another couple of hours.”

The gummy smile returned as Castiel answered, “Yeah, only a couple of hours.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile goofily back, only stopping when he felt a sharp sting on his ass. Whirling around, he saw Ellen with a towel in her hand.

“As happy as I am to see you made a friend, you’re still on the clock. Get your ass into gear and get this place ready for shut down.”

“On it, Ellen.” Dean jumped back to work, barely having enough time to do anything but wave before Ellen shepherded Cas out the door.

Dean had also hoped that if he worked fast enough, he could avoid Ellen trying to catch a word with him.

He should have known better.

“You sure seemed friendly with that alpha,” she commented as Dean started sweeping up the floors.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, just never seen you interact with an alpha much.”

“That's because Cas didn't act like a knothead like some of the other people in this town.”

Alphas like Gordon Walker, Walt, and Roy for example.

Ellen nodded. “Well that alpha did seem well-mannered. What did he want anyway?”

“Oh...” Dean blushed, and could practically feel the notepad with Castiel’s address burn against his leg. “I… he… we’re just going to the bookstore.”

Ellen gave him a disbelieving look.

“I swear! He needed something to do with his new 'leisure time' and he missed reading. So I suggested showing him around the bookstore in town.”

“Mighty nice of you to go out of your way like that.”

“Aren’t you the one who always says that I need to do more with my life than just work and hang around Sammy and his friends?”

“Yes, but I was thinking more along the lines of finding a nice beta girl. You only have another nine years to go before—”

“I know,” Dean snapped, immediately feeling bad afterwards. It wasn’t Ellen’s fault that Dean was broken. “I know, but… I just don’t think that’s for me.”

“You know, you _could_ go omega. If you did find someone, you know Bobby and I would—”

“I can’t ask for that either, Ellen. The fees are too expensive, and it’s not like I have an omega on my mind either. Really, I think I’m just better off alone.”

Ellen pursed her lips, but nodded. “Just remember, you’re still young and still have plenty of time to decide. There’s also a big world out there. Your perfect woman just might not be in Lebanon.”

Dean’s stomach curled in shame, as there was an equal chance for him to find a perfect woman and a perfect man, but neither would want him, and one was a federal crime.

“Can we just drop the subject, please?” Dean begged.

Ellen nodded, asking, “Will you still be able to do a shift tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m off from Bobby’s and I doubt the bookstore trip will take too long. Why?”

“Just making sure.” Ellen shrugged before spraying the counter with disinfectant and wiping it down. “You know my offer still stands. You and Sam can stay the nights here when you have to work a night shift.”

Dean swept the ground with more vigor than it needed and said, “I know.”

“You don’t always have to take care of John. He’s a grown beta, he can take care of himself.”

“And what if something does happen to him? Something that could have been prevented if I was there? Then it would be on me.”

“Wrong, boy,” Ellen snapped, violently hitting the counter with her towel. “No one is forcing John Winchester to empty those bottles and wallow in his own self-pity. I might not have been married to an omega, but I lost my mate as well. But you don’t see me neglecting my baby girl, or not doing my damn best to face every day without Bill by my side.”

Dean recoiled, and looked down at where his hands gripped the broomstick handle. “I know, but…. I can’t just leave him either.”

“I’m sure he can last three nights a week without you there to babysit him. Not like he hasn’t disappeared on you for longer.”

Dean didn’t reply, as there were no excuses for the long stretches of time where John would take off without a word and not return for a week or two. Once he was gone for a whole three months, and refused to say where he went. Dean was grateful that John didn’t get fired from his job, and instead his dad just lost his vacation time for these sporadic trips.

Though that also meant the bastard couldn’t take any of the holidays off either. Sam was probably five the last time John spent Christmas with them.

“You know what? Yeah. Sam and I’ll give it a try tomorrow night. He likes hanging out with Jo and getting some schoolwork done.”

“And I like the fact that Jo gets her homework and studying done while he’s around.” Ellen shook her head. “Don’t know why the girl hates classwork so much, but wants to go get a fancy degree one day.”

Dean shrugged. “Might just be because college is more tailored to what she likes.”

Neither one of them pointed out how Jo would only be able to go to college if she was a beta.


	8. Brothers

“Come on, sleepy head,” Dean muttered softly as he knelt beside the couch where both his brother and Jo had passed out. “Time for us to head back home.”

Sam grumbled incoherently and buried his face further into Jo’s shoulders.

Ellen tisked in mock disapproval, “If Sam was any other boy, I’d be skinning him alive right now.”

“Oh you wish that Sam was dating your daughter, don’t even deny it,” Dean teased. “Not that I can blame you. He is a fine catch, and would make a good future son-in-law.”

Ellen glared at him and said, “Don’t make me hit you.”

“Does that mean I should hold off on the future wedding invitations? Owww!”

Dean’s cry of pain did the trick of waking Sam up. “Dean? What happened?”

“Nothing. Ellen’s just mean and abusive,” Dean whined.

“Keep sassing me, and I won’t send you boys off with a platter of my whiskey brownies.”

“I mean, the magnificent Ellen was just reminding me of my humble place.”

“Oh is that all?” Sam yawned. “Can I go back to sleep, then?”

“You can nap in the car, and then you’ll be asleep in your own bed before you know it.”

Sam groaned louder, making Jo twitch in her sleep. “Can’t we just stay here tonight?”

“Dad is expecting us home, but I told Ellen we’ll give their guest room a try tomorrow. Just remember, it’s a queen so that means your ass will have to share with me, and no kicking is allowed.”

“I won’t kick as long as you don’t hog the blanket,” Sam bartered, not caring about the single bed situation. At this point, they’ve shared a bed longer than they’ve slept alone.

“Deal,” Dean chuckled, ruffling Sam’s hair. “Now, think you can get up on your own, or am I going to have to carry you?”

Sam scoffed, “I’m too big for you to carry me.”

“Wanna bet?” Dean teased before quickly untangling Sam from his blonde friend and scooping him up bridal style like he weighed nothing. “Come on, I want sleep.”

Ellen stared at him in surprise, commenting, “I always forget how strong you are for a beta.”

“I mean, I do work out every day,” Dean responded nonchalantly.

In reality, it was his omega strength. Alphas gained their immense strength through rage, while omegas gained theirs from love. It was how omega mothers were known to lift heavy objects that had fallen on top of their young in times of crisis. But since omegas were treated as delicate flowers, they never realized how strong they could be.

“Alright, Rocky, can you put me down now?” Sam complained, and Dean complied.

Sam took a final glance at Jo and said, “She’s really out of it.”

Ellen nodded. “She’s slept through thunderstorms with no problem.”

“Can you tell her I said goodbye?”

“Of course, but it’s not like she won’t see you at school tomorrow.”

Dean mouthed “wedding invitations” to Ellen, only for her to glare back.

“Sam, please get your brother out of my house before I throw something at him.”

“Really, Dean,” Sam complained, “can’t you go one day without annoying someone?”

“Probably, but where’s the fun in that?”

They both said their goodbyes to Ellen, who decided to withhold their brownies after all, since she didn’t want John to eat them on them while they were gone all of tomorrow.

“Can’t believe we can’t even trust Dad with whiskey brownies. Not like he can get drunk off of that.” Sam grumbled.

Dean didn’t respond, knowing that whatever he’d say would just upset Sam further. Instead, he flipped on the radio to the classic rock station to try to fill the silence. Didn’t take long for one of the government propagandas to breach through, though.

_**“Good evening, citizens! Just a lovely reminder to stay tuned for the welcome home party of the youngest son of our brilliant leader. This marks the first day of him being back on home soil, and in six months time he will be sworn into his official government duties. How exciting!”** _

Dean and Sam shot bored glances at each other before Dean returned his eyes to the road. Just what they needed, another entitled brat having a glorified spot in office. Taking away another position that a real professional could handle.

_**“Stay tuned, and remember: watching the welcome home party is optional, but watching the official swearing in ceremony is mandatory. Enjoy the rest of your night! And remember, God bless the Legion of New America.”** _

Dean turned off the radio as soon as the announcement was over, not wanting to risk hearing it repeat itself after every song like they sometimes did.

“I’m surprised the King’s sons have to serve active duty,” Sam commented, just to say something.

“It’s an alpha rite of passage; even the King had to serve his time. But it’s not like the rest of us. They have bodyguards at all times to protect their asses, and they get to keep some of their luxuries.”

“How old do you think he is?”

“Probably twenty-one. I can’t see any of the royal brats staying in active duty longer than they have to.”

Which meant that they would have a sniveling twenty-one-year-old brat with no real world experience there to help run their country. Great.

“I hope the swearing in ceremony doesn’t interrupt classes,” Sam grouched.

“Sammy, I think you are the only kid in America who wants that. Pretty sure everyone else is praying that it happens during class hours so school will be cancelled.”

“Yeah, but it’s still boring to sit through.”

“Ugh, you have no room to talk. You were still young enough during the last one that you could wander off and play with your toys. I had to stick around and listen to the whole thing when the twins got sworn in. __Twins__. As in two of them on the same day but two different oaths and ceremonies! It was killer for twelve-year-old me.”

“My heart weeps for you.”

“You little shit,” Dean laughed, and was glad to hear his brother chuckle alongside him.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Sam asked once the laughter lulled. He seemed hesitant despite the relaxed atmosphere, which bothered Dean.

“Is this about presenting again?”

“No.” Without even looking at Sam, Dean knew his brother was blushing as he said, “Actually what you said before at Ellen’s. Are we really going to start staying over there?”

“She’s offered a room and a mattress during my night shifts, and extended an invitation to you as well. Though can’t say for sure how long that will pan out.”

“Why do you think it’s not a sure thing?”

“It’s… look, I just don’t want us to rely on other people. And we don’t know how much us being around is going to disrupt their routine, or vice versa. If it works out, great, then that means you have more study dates with Jo.”

“And less time in the house dealing with John. You know, on the rare nights he’s home.”

“Some of those nights he’s at work,” Dean weakly pointed out.

“Yeah, sometimes. But usually he’s either missing or drunk on the couch.”

Dean groaned. “Sam, I love you, but I just don’t have the energy to get into this right now. So if this is going to lead to a fight, can we just skip it?”

“What if I don’t talk about Dad and instead ask you what we’ll do if Ellen’s room ends up working out? You know, really working out well?”

Dean shot Sam a confused glance. “Then we stay during my night shifts like I said before.”

“No, I mean… is there any way we can move in there?”

“Sam, I can’t afford to pay Ellen.”

“You would if you didn’t have to pay for Dad’s mortgage and bills.”

“Sam—”

“Hell, that’s not your responsibility to pay anyway. It’s not your fault that Dad drinks and gambles most of his paycheck away!”

“Sammy, I told you I’m not in the mood to fight!” Dean snapped.

“I… you’re right. It’s just… I hate it there. Or at least I hate it when he’s there. It’s like… he’s this black hole that just sucks everything into him. It’s either I have to fight him or just collapse in on myself.”

Dean’s mouth opened to tell Sam not to be so melodramatic, but that’s not what came out. “I know. And I know I make excuses for him, but he wasn’t always like this. He used to be a great dad. We used to be happy.”

“Yeah, you, him, and mom. I never got that, Dean. Not really,” Sam said with a tremble in his voice.

Well, shit.

Dean didn’t hesitate in pulling his Baby over and hugging his younger brother, saying, “I know, and I’m so sorry you never really got the chance to know Mom. Or Dad. I’m sorry that all you’re stuck with is me.”

Sam let out a weak sob and clenched Dean tight. “Don’t say that. You’re the one stuck with me. You could pack up and leave whenever you want. I don’t have to be your obligation.”

“That’s utter bullcrap. You’re not an obligation, __you__ are my baby brother, and that’s never going to change. No matter how moose-like you get.”

Sam let out a wet laugh, which encouraged Dean to keep talking, “Seriously, Sammy, having you in my life is the best thing that could ever happen to me. You’re not just my kid brother, but you’re also my best friend.”

“You’re mine too,” Sam admitted into Dean’s shoulder. “And… and I know it sounds awful, but if I had to pick between having you or getting to know Mom and Dad, then I’d still pick you. I wouldn’t be who I am without you.”

Dean felt his own tears start to leak as he said, “Same, Sammy. You have no idea how grateful I am that it was you I managed to get out of the fire. So fucking grateful.”

Neither boy was usually this emotional, but this time of year always made Dean more melancholy and introspective.

“You know, I’ve actually been saving all of my tip money for something pretty important,” Dean broached.

“Yeah?”

“I… I was thinking about using the money to help us find our own place. Just us. And get a place that actually has two bedrooms so you can have a room of your own. You know, once you’re done high school and all that jazz.”

Sam broke away from Dean to stare at him. “Really? What about Dad?”

“I’ll have a talk with him when it gets closer to your graduation. Let him know that we’re old enough to leave the nest, and that… Well, I go where you go.”

Sam stared at Dean, baffled.

“I’m not a complete idiot. I know you aren’t happy here, and that you’re going to want to go somewhere else. Either I leave with you, or you’re going to run away when my back is turned.”

Sam bit his lip and said, “It’s not that I want to leave __you__. I just… I really hate it at home.”

“I know, kiddo. I do too. But do me a favor and try to hold on for a little longer? I’ll get us out of there, without us needing to burden others.”

“But we can potentially stay up to three nights a week at Ellen’s?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then I guess I can put up with it for now.”

“Good. Now let’s get back home before curfew hits,” Dean said, giving Sam one final pat on the back before sliding back over to the driver’s side.

“Do __they__ actually know when you clock back home?” Sam asked, curious.

“Yeah. It’s why I had to fill out all of that paperwork for the city council when I first started bartending. They like knowing when the latest I’ll be home. They don’t really like anyone lingering around too late at night.”

“How the hell does Dad get away with it, then?”

“I wish I knew. Though I doubt he’ll let us know how.”

Thankfully Sam didn’t demand more answers than that and remained quiet the rest of the ride, drifting in and out of sleep. He only stirred when Dean turned off the engine, then lumbered into the house and towards their room like a zombie. Dean wondered if the kid was sleepwalking through his nightly routine. That is, until Sam turned to look at Dean.

“Hey, can I ask you one more question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think Mom would have liked me? I mean, I know she’d loved me. She kinda has to. But would she have liked me?”

Dean groaned, flopped backwards onto his bed, and stared up at the ceiling. There were cracks there that he really needed to deal with on his next day off. “You know, for a smart kid you can really be a dumbass.”

“Hey!”

“Bitch, it’s a compliment. Sorta.” With a sigh he sat back up and continued, “Of course she would have liked you. What’s not to like? You’re ridiculously smart, you actually like vegetables, and have the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. Yeah, you sorta resemble a shaggy-haired moose, but you can’t help that I took all the pretty genes.”

Sam whacked Dean with his pillow. “I’m being serious!”

“And so am I. Hell, where’s this even coming from?”

Sam shrugged and carefully put his pillow back on his bed.

“Oh don’t give me that. We both know you don’t bring things up without a reason. So tell me, what is it? Is it just because… well, what yesterday was?”

“No? Yes? I… I guess it’s just… I don’t think Dad likes me.”

“Hey, you’re the one that’s always picking fights with him,” Dean slipped, regretting the words immediately.

“Yeah, that’s because I’m not going to ignore it when he fucks up.”

“He’s still our dad.”

“You’re more of my dad than he is. Sometimes I feel like he can’t even stand to look at me unless I’m yelling in his face.”

Dean wondered if Sam’s tactic was better than Dean’s own of being the obedient son. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure when was the last time John looked him in the eye. Probably not since his first heat.

“Dad… John lives in his head. We just got to accept that.”

“That’s such bullshit—”

“I didn’t say we have to like it. Just acknowledge it, and know that he’s never going to respond the way we want him to. And if he can’t appreciate you for the awesome person you are, then that’s on him.”

Sam smiled softly and said, “Yeah, it doesn’t matter. At least I have you.”

“And you always will. I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”


	9. Chaotic Mornings

“Sam, if you don’t get your ass down here in the next five minutes then I’m leaving said ass behind!” Dean yelled from the kitchen, not bothering to keep his voice low because John was nowhere in the house.

“Hold on, I’m still getting dressed!”

“How friggin’ long does it take to put on a pair of pants?”

“Shut up, you’re distracting me.”

“Come on, man, it’s not rocket science. Just put one leg in at a time, slide it up, then zip and button. Oh yeah, just make sure they’re not facing backwards, and not to get yourself caught.”

Dean heard a loud bang, but couldn’t tell if Sam tripped or if he banged his head against the wall, followed by a loud, “Dean. Shut up!”

“Then hurry up!”

A couple more thumps and then their bedroom door swung open to reveal an irritated Sam. Dean shoved a paper lunch bag in his hands. “No time for breakfast. Just eat in the car, and remember not to get any crumbs in Baby.”

Dean usually wasn’t in a rush to get Sam to school, but they had a bit of a conundrum this morning. Since Dean didn’t have work that morning he didn’t set an alarm, and Sam had been so tired from getting in so late last night that he forgot to set his own. Which meant that neither one of them got up until 8AM.

It didn't help matters that Castiel ended up moving their schedule book date—err, get together— for earlier in the day, which meant there was no time to waste.

With Sam running so late, and in danger of getting a mark on his record, Dean had to skip his usual morning routine and spritz himself with the hunter spray that he saved for special occasions instead. It would be fine to get Sam to school and sign him into the school office, but he would need to work out, shower, and de-scent Baby just in case. Alphas were more prone to sniffing out sweet scents, just like Dean could detect musky scents easily, so even if Sam and Dean didn’t smell anything, it didn’t mean that Castiel wouldn’t be able to. And Dean really didn’t have the brain power to think up a good excuse as to why his car smelt like stressed out omega.

“What has you so tense, anyway,” Sam asked, zipping up his jacket. “Usually I’m the anxious one.”

“Well we’ve never been this late before. Usually it’s late by ten to fifteen minutes. Not almost an hour.”

“At least I’m only missing part of English class,” Sam commented as he climbed into Baby and buckled in. “I can easily catch up on that, and I’m sure Garth will give me the notes I missed.”

“Yeah, but you missed homeroom and part of your first class. That’s going to be written down and could impact any of the government’s decisions when they make your placements. Once you hand in those request forms, you end up being on their watch list. The less you bring attention to yourself the better.”

“Okay, I’ll make sure to set multiple alarms next time,” Sam grumbled. “Though it’s more than just me being late for class. What else is bugging you?”

“I got to pick up a friend before noon, and I still have a shit ton of things I need to do before I can see him.”

“Since when do you have friends?” Sam asked around a biteful of his bagel.

“Hey, I have loads of friends,” Dean defended. “They're just too cool to meet my scrawny brother.”

“Just you watch, one of these days I’m going to be taller than you, and you will regret every joke you’ve ever made about my height!”

“I wasn’t making fun of your height. Just those string beans you call arms and legs.”

Sam flipped him the bird before shoving more food into his mouth.

Despite all of the morning chaos, Dean was able to get Sam signed into school, sweet-talk the principal into not putting this first-time offense on his record, and complete all of his chores in a timely fashion. By the time he reached the hotel that Cas was staying at, both he and his car smelled only of clean, relaxed beta.

Castiel, however, was sporting some major bedhead and smelt like he hadn’t had the chance to shower. If Dean concentrated hard, he could pick up some of the alpha’s true scent, but it was faint since he wasn’t familiar with the smell yet. It did remind him of the scent of the earth right before it rained.

A smell that Dean wanted to investigate further, and bedhead that Dean’s omega instincts were begging him to fix. Instead, Dean tightened his grip on the wheel.

“Hello, Dean. Thank you again for picking me up. Oh, and for not minding the schedule change.”

“No problem. Now aren’t you glad I gave you my number?”

“Very,” Castiel said seriously, but when he smiled it was open and relaxed. “I have to admit, my head wasn’t too happy to be waking up sooner, but I realized I should probably invest in a phone before it gets too late in the day. My family is often busy and texting with them is the easiest way to stay in touch.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t have a phone before you got enlisted.”

“They were disapproved of. We weren’t exactly allowed to go anywhere without an entourage, so there was little point in having a phone anyway. Our father always knew exactly where we were at all times.”

“That’s super creepy. But what do you mean there was no point in having a cellphone? What about keeping in touch with friends?”

“I… didn’t exactly have those. There were some peers my age that I interacted with because our families ran in the same circles, but they weren’t friends. Admittedly, my first real friends were Balthazar and Meg.”

Dean made a face before saying, “That's even worse. Those are two prickly people for you to pick for your first set of friends.”

“Prickly they may be, but they are still loyal, and care about my well being. I’m lucky to have that.”

“You know, I was wondering about that. Don’t see too many alphas hanging out with betas unless they are bossing them around, but you seemed to just go with the flow of what they wanted.”

“They did have more experience in that type of scene, and I wanted them to have fun,” Castiel said, shifting nervously in his seat. “Admittedly, I went to that bar fully expecting that I was going to be bored the whole night. I was pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong.”

Dean smirked. “Those Mai Tais are pretty good.”

“Actually, it was the company that made my evening,” Castiel admitted with a shy smile.

Dean blushed and cleared his throat. “Anyway, want to have the radio play for some background tunes? But that doesn’t mean we have to stop talking.”

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind listening to some music, though I’m glad we can still talk as well. We didn’t really have anything to listen to when I was overseas. There was too much fear of us accidentally revealing our positions.”

Of course it was just Dean’s luck that there was another national broadcast going on.

_**“There’s still no word about when youngest prince will be returning home, or the time and date the reunion party will be rescheduled—”** _

“They’re throwing the prince a reunion party?” Castiel asked, startled.

“Yeah. I mean, the royal family throws a party for everything. Especially since His Majesty remarried,” Dean said, thinking back to King Charles’s recent wedding to Queen Rebecca about five years ago. “And I mean everything. Birthdays, the twins’ engagement parties, their weddings, the days their wives each were pregnant. Hell, even the day Lady Kelly was diagnosed with cancer, and again when she passed away from it.”

“Kelly Kline is dead?” Castiel asked in shock. The familiarity with the way he used her name was jarring.

“Yeah, pretty recently too. Barely a month ago.”

Castiel paled and his lip trembled before he bit it. Even from a quick glance, Dean could tell the man’s eyes were teary.

Either Cas was a zealot of the royal family or…

Dean turned down the volume of the radio and asked, “Did you know Kelly?”

Castiel took a deep breath before answering, “I… knew her. We were actually classmates. A brilliant woman, especially for an omega.”

Dean bristled at that. “For an omega?”

“Yes?” Castiel shifted in his seat, probably to look at Dean, but Dean was stubborn and refused to take his eyes off the road again.

“You don’t need to say she was smart for an omega. She was just smart. Unless you’re trying to say all omegas are dumb...?”

“Of course not! I’m just saying… It’s proven that omegas don’t perform as well academically as other designations; they are just more domestic and suited for those roles.”

“That’s a fucking load of bullshit,” Dean growled, still refusing to look at Cas. “Your tests are rigged because omegas are not given the same opportunities as the other designations, because everyone expects them to stay at home and take care of children. Hell, none of the designations are given a decent opportunity since their whole lives are dictated based on what additional hormones they have in their systems. And you can’t even deny it or we wouldn’t be going out to the bookstore so I can buy your books about plants!”

“I didn’t think about it like that,” Castiel said softly. “I… I wonder how many times I had accidentally insulted her or made her feel inferior? And… and now I can’t do anything to fix that.”

Dean momentarily closed his eyes, realizing that now was really not the time to point out Castiel’s harmful stereotyping. “I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, you should have,” Castiel assured. “I would have disrespected her memory further if I continued on with that line of thought. Kelly was a brilliant _person_ who deserved more in her life.”

“I’ll bet. Kinda weird that you technically knew royalty. I wonder if you’d even be allowed to see her son.”

“She had a child?”

“Yeah, right before she died. It’s one of the reasons why her death was so tragic. She got diagnosed with breast cancer towards her second trimester, and it was either wait on chemo, or terminate the pregnancy. She decided to wait until after she had the baby, but… well, it had already metastasized at that point. There really wasn’t much the doctors could do but buy her more time.”

“Do you know the child’s name?”

“It starts with a J. Josh, Jack, Jake. Something like that.”

“Wait, if Kelly is dead, then who is taking care of the baby?”

“Right to the heart of the drama! Since alphas can’t raise kids by themselves, Lucifer’s brother Michael, and Michael’s wife Duma, stepped in to raise the kid. Though there’s speculation that Queen Rebecca wants to raise the child herself, especially since the King didn’t want to have any more kids by the time he remarried, and she’s always wanted her own. That and most of her step kids are around her age, so it’s not like she can really be a mother to them.”

Castiel made a noise of disgust at that.

“Yeah, creepy, right?”

“Extremely. Can we move onto brighter topics? Please?” Castiel begged.

“Umm, sure.” Dean paused and tried to figure out what to talk about. “Hey, have you ever had fresh ice cream before? There’s a local creamery nearby that milks their own cows and turns it into ice cream and other dairy products. Really good too. Sammy claims it’s because the cows are grass fed and free range.”

“That sounds like that would be delicious. I’m usually not an ice cream fan, especially this late into the year, but I would like to try it before I leave.”

“Hey, what do you mean this late in the year?”

“Dean, it’s almost winter. Shouldn’t ice cream only be a summer treat?”

“Yeah, if you are a pansy. Plus, it goes great on top of pies, and pies are good all year round.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Hey, that reminds me, when do you have to head back home? You know, so I don’t hold you up too long.” Because if Dean had his way, he’d like to spend the entire day and night with Cas.

“I… haven’t decided yet. I think I’m just going to take it one moment at a time, and go home when I feel like I should. It’s not like I have much to return to at this point. We haven’t spoken in eight years, another couple of days without seeing them doesn’t make much of a difference.”

Dean whistled, asking, “So it’s true? When you’re in service you don’t have contact with anybody from the outside? What about letters?”

“Nothing at all. The theory behind it is that they don’t want people to be distracted by their homes, and by the people they left behind. During your time of service, all that you are is a warrior for America, and your only purpose is to serve.”

“Man, sometimes I’m pretty grateful that I didn’t present as an alpha. For a while, we thought I was.”

“You are remarkably tall and muscular for a beta. If it wasn’t for the badge on your chest, and for your subtle scent, then I would also think that you were an alpha.”

Dean chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, I’ve always wondered how tall I’d have been if I got that extra alpha height boost. Probably could be close to seven feet.”

Castiel made a disgruntled noise. “I know I’m on the shorter spectrum of height for an alpha. I personally blame my father’s genetics. Despite being an alpha, he’s only five-eight. Although my oldest two brothers are six foot, much to my annoyance.”

“Why, how tall are you? I thought you were at least six foot.”

“Close. I’m five-eleven and a half,” Castiel said, sounding bitter about it. “All I needed was that extra half inch.”

Dean chuckled, “You should just start wearing shoes with an extra lift so you can be six foot.”

“That’s not the point,” Castiel grumbled before changing the subject. “So what are you planning on getting on this little venture?”

“I figured I was going to check the value bins to see if they have anything good. They usually have some used or partially damaged books there that I can get for cheap. Figured Sammy could use some new reading material.”

“Nothing for yourself?”

Dean shrugged. “I usually don’t have the free time to read, which is why I’m more of a movie man. But when I have the time, I just go through Sammy’s collection. And since he’s already read it, he can usually figure out what book I’d enjoy.”

“It sounds like the two of you are very close.”

“He’s my brother, it’s hard not to be.”

“I disagree. I’m admittedly not close with any of my brothers.”

Dean couldn’t imagine what that would have been like, and decided he didn’t need to try to imagine it. “Yeah, but we grew up in tiny spaces. Had to depend on each other for a lot, and for the longest time we were each other’s only friend.”

“Maybe that was part of the problem. Our home is… well, ‘elaborate’ is one word for it.”

“Let me guess, you came from old money?”

“Yes. Very old money, admittedly. One of the best ways to show off how wealthy you are is by showing off how big your home is. To put it into perspective, my childhood home has twelve bedrooms and eight bathrooms. That’s not even including the additional rooms and studies.”

“Damn, and our tiny place is only a one-bedroom for all three of us,” Dean slipped. When was he going to learn to think before he speaks?

“Only one bedroom?” Castiel didn’t sound disturbed by the fact, just confused.

“Yeah, it was all that we could afford and qualified for. So Sammy and I share the bedroom and our dad sleeps on the pullout couch in the living room.”

“I shudder to think what would have happened if any of my brothers had to share a room with me. They’d probably drive me mad. Or make me sleep on the roof. Actually, they’d do both.”

“Your brothers sound like some interesting characters.”

“That’s one way to describe them. Luckily, interactions between us were rare, considering the amount of space we all had. Though sometimes I wonder if that was the problem. It is hard to be a family unit when you sometimes don’t see each other for weeks at a time.”

“Wait, what about at dinnertime?”

“Even as children we had very busy schedules, and our father’s job meant that he was rarely home with us. Instead we would just rely on the cooks making us whatever we wanted. With some limitations of course, after Gabriel went a full week of eating nothing but sweets.”

Dean snickered, asking, “A whole week? How did he not get sick?”

“No one knows, though his dentist was absolutely horrified by all of the cavities he got by his next appointment.”

“I’ll bet.” Dean carefully maneuvered Baby into a left turn before continuing, “I can’t imagine what it would have been like if Sammy and I didn’t grow up close. Probably would have meant a lot of fights. Not that we don’t get into our scuffles every now and then. Or prank each other.”

“Pranks?”

“Oh yeah, we used to do epic prank wars, but we had to call a ceasefire because it was getting too bad.”

“How bad?”

“Well, let’s put it this way, it started off with the usual stuff: turning white clothes pink, itching powder in the underwear, but then it just got ugly. Putting Nair in Sammy’s shampoo and making him go bald—”

“What?”

“In my defense, it was knock-off Nair and I thought it would give him one weird bald patch. I didn’t think it would actually remove all of his hair!”

“That is horrible.”

“Hey, he snuck a dead snake in my pants. I had every right!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Anyway, Dad was so pissed that we had to swear not to do any more pranks, and I had to buy Sam a good quality wig to cover up his egghead. Shit, those things are expensive. He also let Sam give me a buzz cut, and let me tell you, it was hideous. At least Sam got to rock a cool wig; I just looked like some G.I. Joe reject.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that—”

“My girlfriend at the time broke up with me because it was that bad,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “Teenagers.”

“Do you have a girlfriend now?” Castiel asked, like the answer was vital information.

Dean almost choked on his spit. “No! Yeesh, Cas, I told you I’m planning on going the bachelor route. Not exactly like anyone wants to be in a relationship with someone like me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Dean refused to look over at Cas, not wanting to risk seeing those blue eyes look passionately back at him. Looking at Dean like he was someone special. “Trust me,” he said instead, “no one would want me for keeps.”

“I would like to keep you,” Cas said, startling Dean so bad he almost jerked Baby into the other side of traffic. But before Dean could have a proper heart attack, Castiel amended his answer. “I mean, in a purely platonic way. Not in the creepy or potentially kidnapper way.”

Dean gave a weak laugh, nerves still a little frazzled. He was also trying to deny the fact that he wasn’t a little disappointed by the amendment, and said, “Yeah? That would be nice. When you get that new phone of yours, I can go ahead and put my number in.”

“It will be my first contact. I would very much appreciate that, Dean.”

Dean awkwardly rubbed at his cheek, trying to will away the blush he could feel rising, and said, “Don’t mention it. Plus, you’re fun to talk to. And I have to know if you find out anything in those books I’m getting for you.”

“You want me to talk to you about plant things?”

“Yeah. You really like them and it’s interesting to learn.”

Dean risked a glance at Cas, who was facing forward himself, but Dean could still make out the gummy smile on his face.

“Thank you, Dean. You really are a good friend.”

“Not like I’m really doing much.” Dean shrugged before pulling into the driveway that led to the bookstore, adding, “Well, we’re here.”

On the outside, _the Book Bunker_ looked like a tiny bookstore, but the inside was filled to the ceiling with books of all genres, making you feel like you were in another point of history. Unlike other bookstores, this place encouraged people to sit down and read the books they were debating purchasing, and even let people linger around to get some work done. It was Sam’s and Dean’s favorite place to hang out.

Dean turned around to explain this to Cas, but was startled to see Cas already facing him. Those blue eyes were even more vibrant in the daylight, despite the dark circles underneath them, and the smile on his lips was gentle.

“Thank you for bringing me here. I have a feeling I’m going to love it already.”

Dean had to fight the urge to say that he felt that same about Cas.

Once this trip was over, Dean really needed to look into his mom’s journal and find out what exactly was going on with him.

But for now, Dean was just going to enjoy the alpha’s smile and warm presence.


	10. The Book Bunker

Castiel gasped as they approached the bookstore. The first floor was basic school and art supplies that students might need, and was pretty standard, but the basement level was its crowning achievement, with wall-to-wall coverage of books.

“See why it’s called the Book Bunker now? All of the books are set up below ground, like a bunker,” Dean said, fidgeting nervously, concerned about Castiel’s reaction.

After all, the guy gave up his flight home for this, it had to be impressive.

“Aren’t they concerned about flooding?” Castiel asked, eyeing the walls and lack of natural lighting nervously.

“Nah, this was built as an actual bunker way back in the early 1900s, so it’s pretty much indestructible. Mother Nature can try her best, but these books will be the safest thing around.”

Castiel smiled in relief. “I’m glad. It seems like so few places appreciate books the way they deserve.”

“Trust me, you won’t find a group who loves books more than in this place,” Dean said, slowly herding Castiel towards the plant section of the bookstore. “I actually know the owner. Josie Sands, she was a close friend of my Grandpa Henry’s back in the day. Actually one of the reasons why we moved to Lebanon after… well, after my mom died.”

“Was she one of your caretakers?”

“Sorta. Dad used to drop us off here when we weren’t in school, but we never really saw her outside of the store. I think he was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?”

Dean inwardly cursed himself, not wanting to have said that out loud. “Yeah. Like I said, he really didn’t take Mom’s death well, and I don’t think he wanted Josie to know just how much he strayed from being Henry’s perfect son.”

How bad things still were.

“My father has been married on four separate occasions. I don’t think he’s loved any of them,” Castiel shared, looking down at the empty section of his patch where his future mate’s designation would be. “Sometimes I wonder if that is better than if he lost a mate he loved.”

“Damn, how did he get married four times? From what little you said, I would expect that your dad was one of those old fashioned folks who stayed mated for life.”

“That was his intention, but things didn’t work out that way,” Castiel said, then paused to grab a book from the aisle. It had a giant bee on the cover and proclaimed itself as having 101 facts about bees. Castiel looked at it in interest before opening up to the first page.

“What do you mean?”

“Interesting. Did you know that a single honeybee only makes 1/12th of a teaspoon of honey in its lifetime?” Castiel responded instead, still flipping through the pages, and not looking at Dean.

“Um, no, I didn’t. I guess bees go right into your interests with flowers?”

“There really wouldn’t be most plants and flowers if it weren’t for bees, so the interest in them goes hand in hand with botany and horticulture,” Castiel said before closing the book and tucking it beneath his arm. “As for your previous question… it’s a little complicated.”

Dean waited for Castiel to continue, slowly browsing through the nearby books until Castiel finally spoke up again.

“The twins’ mother died giving birth to them. It was… messy, and unusual since most omegas usually have easy multiple births. Apparently neither twin could figure out who got to leave the womb first and… well, it almost killed them all. Then my father married Gabriel’s mother, but she ran away when he was three and the twins were eight. To this day, no one knows what happened to her. My mother was the third wife. She…” Castiel struggled with his next sentence, looking like the words he wanted to say were trying to strangle him on their way out.

Instinctually, Dean put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. The other man eyed him with confusion before slowly smiling in appreciation.

“She… she committed suicide not too long after I presented as alpha. The… the doctors said she was mentally unwell for a while, which, now that I’m older, I can see the signs more clearly. I rarely ever saw her, and it was mostly the nursemaids that raised us. I guess once I presented, she decided that she was no longer needed on this earth.” Castiel closed his eyes and gripped the bee book tighter.

“Damn, Cas, that’s… fuck, man, that’s awful,” Dean said as he clenched Castiel’s shoulder even tighter.

“It’s… it’s fine. I’ve had a decade to come to terms with it.”

“Coming to terms doesn’t mean that it hurts any less,” Dean said, looking down. “Trust me, my mom died seventeen years ago, and I still feel that hole everyday.”

“Even if my mother wasn’t a good mother?”

“She was still your mom, and you’re allowed to miss her.”

Castiel opened his eyes and gave Dean’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Dean.”

Cas looked like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t figure out what words would serve him best. Dean took pity on him and patted Castiel’s shoulder before removing his hand. “Come on, let’s go find you some plant books.”

Dean soon regretted those words, as his arms felt like they were about to fall off from the amount of heavy tomes Castiel kept handing him. Shit, they really should have grabbed a basket or something.

The alpha was like a little kid in a candy shop; every flashy book that caught his attention was added to the growing pile in both men’s arms. Books as simple as _Taking Care of Your Sunflowers_ to studies on invasive plant species, and even a book about extinct plants and fungi. The man really couldn’t seem to get enough of plant life.

“So why plants?” Dean asked, struggling under the weight of an extra book added to what felt like the 50 pounds worth of them already in his arms. “Not that I’m judging or anything, but it’s not… well, you know?”

“An alpha interest?” Castiel asked with a sheepish smile.

Dean shifted nervously before nodding, hoping his new friend wouldn’t think he was judging him.

“My mother liked plants, but she didn’t have a green thumb, ” Castiel said with a shrug. “She was happier when her houseplant of the week was thriving, but her moods dampened with their declining health. My father didn’t understand why she wouldn’t just let the servants take care of them, but she was stubborn and wanted to do it herself.”

Castiel paused in his browsing to pick up another book. “When I was eleven, I had the brilliant idea to try to learn about plants from our gardener, and use that knowledge to help take care of her plants. After all, it was only the servants that had been banned from helping her. I was correct that I would learn a lot from following Joshua. With each one of his lessons, I was able to undo the damage my mother was accidentally causing. Gave them more water, made sure they didn’t get too much or too little sunlight, and that they had the proper soil. Then I started doing additional research on my own time and learnt things like the importance of phosphates in soils and... err, let’s just say I was intrigued and wanted to learn everything about plants.”

Dean smirked, glancing down at the piles of books in his hands, adding, “Something you didn’t really outgrow.”

Castiel ducked his head in embarrassment.

“Hey, did your mother ever find out it was you keeping the plants alive?”

Castiel frowned and said, “I assume as much. One day all her plants ended up in my room, with a handwritten letter ordering me to keep them out of my mother’s sight.”

“Her loss. Hey, if I showed you pictures of my pitiful yard, think you might be able to help me turn it into something less pathetic? Sam’s been trying to turn it into a vegetable garden for years, but the only thing that grows is crabgrass.”

“It might be hard from just pictures alone. Maybe I can check it out in person instead?”

Dean was not expecting that, and for a moment he daydreamed about Castiel stopping by his house whenever he could. Of them working in the garden together to transform their shitty yard into the landscape Sam and him had always wanted. Maybe afterwards they’d go inside and watch a movie together, all of them squeezed onto the couch, with Castiel nestled close to his side, and—

And John finding a strange alpha in their home and freaking out.

Dean cringed at the thought of John seeing any of that, and could already hear the outrage John would have about the situation.

Could hear the slurs as John verbally ripped him apart for being an idiot. Of being the desperate omega that he always feared Dean would be.

If John knew what Dean was doing now, he would be having a hissy fit, so sure that Dean would find a way to blow their cover.

Dean knew the rules, he memorized them, and knew that one of the biggest ones was not to get too close to alphas as their noses could eventually pick up the sweet undertones of his true scent if they became familiar with him.

“I’m sorry, that was too forward of me,” Castiel apologized, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have assumed that—”

“It’s not that!” Dean jumped in. “It’s just… my dad can be pretty weird about people stopping by the house when he’s home. And since he has a crazy work schedule, I’m never sure when he’s home, at work, or…”

Or drinking himself sick at the local pub.

“Or somewhere else,” Dean added, weakly.

Castiel looked at him, as though he heard what Dean wanted to say, and nodded his head in understanding, saying, “Of course. I would not want to put you in an awkward position.”

It was already too late for that. If John ever found out that Dean was spending the day with an alpha, he was sure the beta would find a way to kick his ass into the following week. Dean knew the rules, and right now he was breaking the biggest one.

“Trust me. Cas, it’s fine,” Dean said, offering him a weak smile. “It’s actually nice hanging out with you.”

Castiel looked at Dean in shock, as if he was the first one to really enjoy the odd man’s company.

Dean shifted nervously under the man’s gaze, not sure what Castiel must be seeing when he looked at Dean.

“I really enjoy your company as well. I feel like you understand me on a level my other companions don’t comprehend,” Castiel admitted, looking down at his books. “As well-meaning as Meg and Balthazar are, they would have never thought of doing something like this. Giving me the opportunity to read the subjects that I enjoy without ridicule. Even though I’ve talked about my fascination with plants before, I’ve been only met with… indifference. But you… even though you don’t understand the subject matter, you pay attention.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s clearly something you like and care a lot about. Be pretty rude of me not to give it some attention.”

“You would think, but that’s seldom the reaction I get.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Like I said, you’ve chosen some shitty friends. Now come on, I think you’ve got enough plant books for now. Time to get you something a little more manly.”

Castiel shot Dean a betrayed glance, but followed him anyway as Dean weaved between the aisles until they ended up in the automotive book collection. After a few scans, Dean found a hardcover book on American muscle cars across the past couple of decades.

“Perfect,” Dean declared.

“Why’s it perfect?”

“Because, this cover can slip off,” Dean began, carefully putting Castiel’s other books on the floor so that he could slide the sleeve off of the car book, “and you can put it on any of your plant or bee books. This way you can read it in public without anyone side-eyeing you.”

Castiel looked hesitant at the thought of deception, but then nodded in understanding. “Yes, that would work out well. Although, I never did understand why cars are considered alpha appropriate, but mechanic jobs go to betas.”

“It’s the smell,” Dean said, picking the books back up. “The smell of gas, oil, and all the other chemicals can really irritate an alpha’s sensitive nose. Can make them real sick, and can even give them migraines. Not really worth the hassle for them.”

Dean had puked the first time his dad had made him work on Baby post-heat. The overpowering scents had assaulted him so hard that Dean felt like he got punched repeatedly in the gut, and had his head bashed in. John showed no sympathy and for days made Dean go back under Baby’s hood until he got nose blind to the smell.

He hated John those first couple of months, but now he was grateful. Dean didn’t want to think what would have happened if John didn’t desensitize him before his official job placement.

“I didn’t think of that, though it does make sense. The smell of fertilizer since presenting has been nauseating. Though I do hope to make a couple of trips to the gardens once I get home. Whenever that will be.”

“Yeah, about that. When do you need to go home?”

“Technically, I was due back yesterday, but I let Balthazar talk me into escorting Meg back to her hometown and having a celebration of our own. Now...” Castiel paused and sighed, “Now I don’t want to go back. It’s been eight years, and a lot has changed. I feel like my family will be expecting eighteen-year-old me to walk through those doors, but I’m nothing like him.”

“I get that. Even without adding in the whole blood and war thing, there’s a big gap between teenager you and adult you.”

“That and… I’m a bit afraid of how my family and friends have changed as well. Terrified, actually.” Castiel looked around, scoping the room before placing his books on the floor and sitting down on the ground, beside them. Dean followed the strange man’s cue, assuming that the man needed to get something off his chest.

“About what?” Dean broached, when it seemed like Castiel was more interested in staring at his knees than continuing on.

“About everything. What is different and what remains the same? I knew that a lot would change while I was overseas; after all, I knew my brothers were due for finding mates and starting their own families, but I didn’t imagine that… I knew that there would be additions to the family. Never subtractions.”

Dean paused before asking, “The Kelly thing really rattled you up that much?”

“Kelly was an omega of a high caliber,” Castiel whispered and Dean tried not to recoil at the phrasing. “She lived in the lap of luxury, had the best care, and the greatest security. Yet that wasn’t enough to keep her out of the hands of death.”

“Yeah, well they say death is the great equalizer for a reason. When time’s up, that’s it.”

Though some people met their end much earlier than they were meant to.

“Yes, I understand that, but how many other people in my life are missing?”

“I’m really surprised the military doesn’t give you any sort of heads up when you get discharged.”

Castiel ran a hand through his hair, saying, “They collect letters from your loved ones and they can tell you what they have been up to. I only got a letter from Gabriel, and the only information described was… well him bragging about the bachelor life, and how it is a ‘nonstop party’ for him.”

Dean smirked and gently elbowed Castiel. “See, Cas. Even your brother says there’s perks to bachelorhood.”

Castiel grunted, still not convinced.

“And not for nothing, but isn’t no news good news? Even your brother would admit that.”

“He would admit if something happened to our father or our brothers, but what about the others? Joshua—the gardener—was getting on in his age. How many of our colleagues are still among us? How many new faces? Not to mention all of the expectations they’ll have of me.”

“Expectations? Oh right, you gotta join you dad’s business and all that shit.”

“It’s more than just… shit… it’s the fact that I’ll have to be molded into whatever person my father and older brothers want me to be. Unfortunate, because…”

“Yeah?”

“Because,” Castiel said, turning to look at Dean, “in the past twenty-four hours, I was finally learning how to be myself. I wasn’t just a soldier, or my father’s son. I was Cas.”

“You don’t have to stop being Cas just because you go home,” Dean argued.

“I’m not sure if I’ll know how to be anything but the son my father wants me to be.” Castiel sighed.

“I get that.” Dean leaned his head back against the bookcase, and rested it against the ledge. “If Dad could trade me in for a different model, I’m sure he would do it in a heartbeat. No matter how hard I try to be the son he always wanted, I can’t be. It’s taken me years, but I’ve slowly realized this.”

“How did you realize it?”

“Honestly? Sammy told me he hated the person I was becoming. He said he missed watching cheesy soap operas with me, us making a monthly pie from scratch, and even me mother-henning him. He said he missed me being me, and it made me realize that I missed him too.”

Castiel smiled sadly. “There’s the problem. I don’t think anyone would miss me.”

“I will,” Dean blurted out, then blushed red. “I mean. Jeez, you’re just really easy and nice to talk to. I don’t think I’ve ever really just sat and talked with a person for so long. I haven’t known you long, but I’ve told you more than almost anyone else in my life.”

“The feeling is mutual. I don’t… I’m usually not this vocal. Talking to you just seems so effortless.”

“Then I don’t see why we can’t stay in touch. That and you'd have more support in continuing to be yourself.”

“You’re really sure that you want to remain friends with me?” Castiel's blue eyes seemed to beg for reassurance.

Dean snorted, “Dude, you think I’m going to be the one to ignore you? Do you even realize how much you are slumming it by hanging out with me? You’re a high class alpha with a bunch of medals and titles to your name. I’m a lower class beta who is a grease monkey by day and bartender by night. I’m amazed you’d want to keep in touch with _me_!”

Castiel made a face and said, “I much prefer your company than anyone else I know within my station.”

“Yeah, well, just remember that when you have your big, fancy job.”

“Trust me, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget you.”

Dean blushed again, turning his head away so that he didn’t have to keep looking at Castiel’s handsome face before saying, “Anyway, let’s stop blocking these aisles and get your books paid for.”

“We still need to get something for you!” Castiel argued.

“I told you, I’ll just check out the bargain—”

“That’s what you planned to get for your brother. There must be something you desire for yourself?”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek, knowing that what he would say next could get him in a world of trouble. “Actually… I’m a big Vonnegut fan. Read most of his books, but there’s been one I’ve been having a hard time getting my hands on. Mainly because it’s… well, it’s censored.”

Censored books contained content that was considered to be too controversial, and the government feared that if they fell into the wrong hands, it could bring about dangerous ideas. Since alphas had military training, and years of showing deference to their leaders, it was decided that alphas were the only ones who would be able to purchase the books. However, betas were allowed to read censored books if they were given one by an alpha who deemed them worthy.

“ _Slaughterhouse-Five_?” Castiel guessed.

“No, umm, I already inherited that from my Grandpa Samuel. I’m missing _Cat’s Cradle_.”

“I see no reason why I shouldn’t help you finish your collection. If you are ready, I can go sign off for it now.”

Dean did not expect it to be that easy.


	11. Change of Plans

Even when Castiel went to bother one of the bookstore workers for access to the censored collections, Dean anticipated Cas would change his mind or reveal that this had all been an elaborate prank, but he didn’t.

Dean still couldn’t believe it when he got to hold the book in his hands, only a short period later while walking to his car.

“It’s really mine?”

Castiel smiled, shifting the bags that contained his own collection, and said, “Of course. There’s only one thing that I ask of you in return.”

Dean braced himself.

“You need to tell me how it is, and whether or not you enjoyed it.”

“Really? Just that?”

“Dean,” Castiel said. He stopped fiddling with his bags in order to look at the pseudo-beta before continuing. “It’s the least I can do. This outing has been the most fun I’ve had in years, and is something that I would like to do again.”

Dean shrugged and put his hand in the pocket where his car keys were. “It really wasn’t like I did anything big. Heck, you didn’t even need me to buy any of those books for you.”

“Something I’m grateful for since I ended up spending at least ten times the amount you did,” Castiel chuckled, “but even if you didn’t pay for them, I wouldn’t have been able to get them without you. I never would have had the nerve to go to the book store and purchase something unconventional, no matter how much I enjoy the material.”

“Yeah, well, it’s stupid that just because you’re an alpha, you can’t like things like plants and stuff. Just because you have a knot doesn’t mean you have to like everything that knot heads like.”

“Admittedly, there’s not many things I have in common with other alphas.”

Dean isn’t too surprised. “Guess that’s why you keep hanging around us lowly betas.”

“Don’t say that,” Castiel growled. “There’s nothing lowly about a beta. It’s correct that they have weaker noses, but you have the superior eyesight.”

Actually, like all omegas, Dean was slightly nearsighted. It was the price their bodies paid for hyperscent, to have weaker sight. Alphas were slightly farsighted, and one of the reasons why betas were preferred for recon and sniping jobs, since their vision was perfect 20:20.

“I can’t tell you how many times a beta had saved my life while overseas, whether it was from someone on the field spotting something before I could, or from one of the medical staffs putting me back together.”

Dean flinched. “You make it sound like that happened a lot.”

“I can count at least six different times I should have died, but none of them seemed to stick. Probably because I was in such good hands.”

“Good thing too, or else I would have missed hanging out with you,” Dean smirked, before opening the passenger door for Castiel.

“You wouldn’t have known me,” Castiel pointed out, but there were still traces of amusement in his voice.

“Okay, yeah, but I guarantee that right now I would be stuck at home, and be dying of boredom.”

“Well that would have been unfortunate. Glad to know I was able to prevent your slow demise.”

Dean snickered at his tone before sliding into his own seat and asking, “Hey, do you still need to pick up a phone?”

Castiel made a face before buckling his seatbelt. “I should, though part of me is dreading it. The sooner I have access to a phone, the sooner I need to call home.”

“It’s not like anyone is forcing you to call home, and there’s a lot of perks to getting your own phone,” Dean said, shifting nervously before pretending it was just to reach his own seatbelt. “You know, like saving my number into said phone.”

“Hmm, that is a valid point, especially since I don’t know how much more of your time I can steal.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. My day is all clear until I have to pick up Sam and Jo, and drop them off at Ellen’s before work.”

“Ellen is also your boss?”

“Yep. Probably wouldn’t have gotten the job or the flexible hours I have if it wasn’t for Sammy being close friends with her daughter.”

“Isn’t that nepotism?”

“Should the guy with a fancy job lined up at his dad’s place really be judging?”

“Not judging, just commenting. Though, I am glad that she was around so that you could have an understanding boss.”

“Thanks.”

“What time do you have to pick up Sammy?”

Dean checked the clock on his dashboard. “Class won’t even let up for another three hours. We’re good.”

They were not good.

Castiel had just picked his cellphone out, when Dean’s own began to ring from an unfamiliar number.

“Hello?”

“Is this Mr. Winchester?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

“This is Ms. Mosely, the school nurse from Lebanon High. I’m calling because Sam Winchester is ill and needs to be picked up from school.”

Dean tensed, his mind flashing with horrifying images of what could be wrong. “What happened? Is he… is he presenting?”

“No not that, he’s just normal sick. There was an incident in the cafeteria and… well let’s just say that the clam chowder wasn’t as fresh as we were led to believe.”

Oh course Sam would be dumb enough to trust clam chowder in a high school.

“Shit, I mean, crap, I mean… how bad is it?”

“Enough that he’s going to need to be at home, and we suggest under someone’s watchful eye. Since it is a reaction with shellfish, we just want to make sure that it doesn’t turn out to be a shellfish allergy as well, so we suggest that you keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t break out into a fever. If he does, you’ll need to take him to the hospital right away.”

“R-right, of course,” Dean stuttered out, his mind already panicking about thoughts of Sam being all alone during his work shift.

Even Dean wasn’t foolish enough to think that John might be around to take care of his own son.

“I’ll be there right away,” he added, before hanging up the phone.

He debated about calling Ellen and calling out sick, but he knew that tonight would be another busy night at the bar.

Yesterday was the crowd of soldiers, coming in to celebrate the fact that they made it home. Tonight would be the parents, friends, and siblings whose loved ones came back in a box.

Shit, even Ellen would be too busy to check in on Sam.

“Is everything alright?” Castiel asked, eyeing Dean in concern.

“Y-yeah,” Dean swallowed a lump in his throat, trying to remind himself of how many times he had gotten sick when no one was around to look over him, and he ended up fine. “Sam got food poisoning and I got to pick him up.”

Dean then remembered that Castiel was relying on Dean for transportation and added, “Fuck. Cas, do you mind if I pick Sam up first, and then I drop you back off at your hotel?”

“Of course, I don’t mind, but you don’t need to be worried about me. I’m sure I can make other arrangements if—”

“Don’t worry about it. I promised you I would be your ride, and I’m not going back on my word.”

“Still… is there anything I can do to help?”

Dean laughed humorlessly, rubbed a hand against his forehead, and said, “Not unless you want to stay the night and be on puke duty.”

“I would have no issues with that, but didn’t you say your father wouldn’t like guests around?”

“I doubt he’ll be home. He works a 36 hour shift on Tuesdays to Wednesdays. I’ll be lucky if he makes it back home by Thursday.”

Dean admittedly didn’t know if John really did work during those hours. John said he did, and Dean didn’t have the energy to look into it. Or the heart to deal with it if it turned out that John was lying.

“What time will you be at work from?”

“About 6 PM to 1 AM,” Dean said, chewing nervously on his lip.

Sam would be fine. He would only be alone for seven hours. It was just a bit of food poisoning and he would get over it in no time, and didn’t need Dean to be there to hover over him.

Dean’s cursed omega instincts didn’t agree.

“That is a long time, even if Sam will be asleep for most of it,” Castiel said, pursing his lips in thought. “If it wouldn’t be a bother for you, then I would be happy to volunteer my services in watching him until you get back.”

“I… I’m not going to get back home until one in the morning, and I won’t be able to take you back home without breaking curfew. You’d have to stay the night and there’s only one bedroom and—”

“And it wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve slept on the floor.”

“Sam’s probably going to smell awful. And being on puke duty—”

“Is not the worst bodily fluid I’ve had to deal with in the past couple of years,” Castiel said, giving a weak, bitter smile. “Nothing smells worse than the smell that comes off a man when you are trying to keep his intestines from slipping out of his abdominal cavity.”

Dean recoiled, nose wrinkling in disgust, while his heart clenched in a mixture of pity and horror.

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure if it was something I can handle.”

Dean closed his eyes, knowing it was a horrible idea. Hanging out with the strange alpha in public places was one thing, but letting him into their home? Into Dean’s own room where he could possibly pick up Dean’s true scent? What about Dean’s strict morning regimen? There were too many risks involved.

Dean opened his mouth to gently turn Cas down, but instead he said, “Thanks, Cas. I really appreciate it.”

Castiel beamed with glee, like Dean was doing him a favor instead of the other way around.

“Why don’t you go finish getting that phone paid for and set up, and then we can go pick up Pukey?”

Castiel glanced guiltily at his phone and said, “We can just head out.”

“No way. If you’re on babysitting duty, you need a functioning phone so you can keep me up to date on how he’s doing. Don’t think that I’m not going to badger you both every free second that I have.”

Half of Castiel’s lips quirked upwards in a reluctant grin. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Dean coughed to disrupt the warm, fuzzy feeling that zapped through him all because of that alpha's damn smile. “Just hurry the hell up already.”

Castiel did so, and made no commentary when Dean drove over the speed limit to make it to the high school in under a half hour.

“Do you mind if you stay in the car? I’m not sure how the school will take a strange alpha accompanying me.”

He knew he was being paranoid, but Dean couldn’t help but fear what would happen if word of Castiel got back to John. Ridiculous, considering how Dean was sneaking him into John’s very own home.

Though it was Dean’s home too, and he was paying more than his fair share of the bills to be able to claim it as his.

“Of course, Dean. I don’t want to cause a scene or make it any harder than necessary for you to reclaim Sam.”

Dean bit back a snicker, picturing Sam being reclaimed like he was some misplaced item in a lost and found.

“Also, I have a ‘small mountain’ of books to keep me entertained,” Castiel said, even using awkward finger quotes as he talked.

Dean rolled his eyes as he got out of his seatbelt and opened the door, saying, “Okay there. Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“I doubt that would be possible.”

“Haha, umm, yeah, that would be…. That would be hard, I guess?” Dean practically fell out of the Impala in his mad attempt of escaping the confined space with Castiel.

Damn. The last thing the alpha needed was to see Dean get even more flustered around him. “Anyway, gotta get Sam. Bye!”

Dean didn’t stop running until he was in the office.

“Mr. Winchester, didn’t I just see you in here earlier?” a cheerful, southern belle accent asked while Dean was hunched over and taking a moment to remind his lungs what oxygen was.

“What can I say,” Dean huffed, slowly straightening up. “I just can’t stay away from you, Mildred.”

“Oh, you flirt,” the older woman cooed. “How you’re still single is a complete mystery to me.”

“Probably because I can’t find a woman my age who matches your caliber,” Dean said with a wink.

Mildred laughed, “Don’t tempt me, not when I’m old enough to be your mother.”

She was closer to the age of his grandmother, but Dean would never point that out.

“But I do know a fine specimen when I see one,” she added with a wink.

“Shame I wasn’t born twenty or so years earlier,” Dean smirked, moving closer to her desk.

“Ewww. Gross, Dean, I already threw up enough today,” the unmistakable voice of Sammy complained behind him.

“Speaking of gross...” Dean did a quick glance over at Sam, relieved to see that the teen looked fine except for the bags under his eyes and the pallor of his skin. “You look like you belong as the picture definition of it.”

Sam raised his hand, as if he was going to flip Dean off, before remembering where they were. “Just take me home already.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting to it,” Dean said, turning back to look at Mildred. “Do I need to fill out anything special? Is he going to be missing any tests? How do I know if he’s fine to go back to school tomorrow?”

Mildred laughed, she had been around long enough to know that Dean was a fretful brother. “Don’t worry about it. He’s not missing any tests, his teachers already gave him the assignment for both today and tomorrow to be safe. He should be fine to come in as long as he gets through twelve hours without vomiting.”

Dean nodded and gestured for Mildred to hand over the forms for him to sign off from, asking, “Will this… umm, have any effect on his future placement?”

“Oh, you little worrywort, he’ll be fine, and if anything does come up we have it noted that he got sick on school grounds. This won’t affect his future qualifications. We also encourage parents to not worry about placements until they know how their child presents.”

“Yeah, well genius over there wants to do either law school or med school depending on his designation, and I know both of them really focus on how he ranks in all of his subjects.”

Mildred sighed, “I shouldn’t say this, but I think you need to hear it. But come closer first.”

Tentative, Dean leaned his head over her desk and she whispered into his ear. “Samuel is in the top 1% of his class. In fact, he’s a likely candidate for valedictorian or salutatorian. Trust me, the kid will do just fine in whatever way he presents.”

Unless he died overseas.

Putting on a shaky grin, he winked at Mildred. “Knew you wouldn’t let me down, dollface.”

“Barf.” Sam groaned in the background, making Mildred giggle.

“You two go ahead and get him home before that becomes the real thing. Oh and before you go,” she added, pulling out a paper bag and handing it over to Dean. “You might want this for the road.”

Dean made a face before shoving the bag at Sam, warning, “If you puke in Baby, you’re cleaning it up. With your own tongue.”

“Ugh, that’s disgusting, Dean!”

“Hey, it would have come out of _your_ mouth.”

“Doesn’t mean I want it back in there!”

They left the school behind with the sounds of Mildred chortling in the background as they continued to bicker. Dean was so distracted with pestering Sam that he forgot to warn him about Cas.

“Dean? Why the hell is there a stranger in your car?” Sam asked, freezing in place, and eyeing Cas like he was a wild bear or something.

“He’s not really a stranger, that’s Cas. He’s… he’s a friend.”

“Why the hell is he here and why is he in your car?”

“What are you, my parole officer,” Dean huffed. “We were hanging out before your dumb ass decided to get sick on school chowder—”

“That is not what—”

“Whatever, bitch. Anyway, I couldn’t just ditch him to pick you up, so he came with. Oh and he’s going to keep an eye on you while I’m at work.”

“What!”

“Lower the volume,” Dean hissed as his poor omega ears were assaulted by the harsh noise. “Look, the school wants someone to keep an eye on you to make sure this doesn’t turn into something worse. I can’t take off of work, John’s busy—”

Sam snorted in disbelief, and Dean had no energy to disagree. “Come on, Dean. Isn’t there anybody else? Ellen?”

“You know how busy the Day After is. That and there’s going to be all sorts of blubbering going on tonight, and I can’t handle sobbing drunks like she can.”

“What about Ms. Sands?”

“Josie? Sam, the woman is old and will be in bed by the time I even start my shift.”

“Bobby?”

“Sam,” Dean growled, “I’m not bothering any of my bosses to step in and help out more than they already do. Look, like it or not, Cas is the best option we have, and I trust him.”

Sam grumbled, but reluctantly followed him the rest of the way into the car, and sat in the backseat.

“Hello, Sam,” Castiel greeted with a nervous smile. He must have figured that something was up by how long they were hovering outside, staring at him. “My name is Castiel. It’s nice to meet you, though I regret that it had to be when you were so sick.”

“Yeah… same.” Sam shifted his head, studying Castiel closely, and frowned when he caught a glimpse of Cas’ patch.

Dean felt Sam’s gaze in the rearview mirror and could tell what he was thinking by his brother’s narrowed eyes.

_“Why the hell is there an alpha in your car?!”_

Dean glared right back. _“None of your damn business. Just keep your mouth shut, okay?”_

Sam made an angry face so stupid that he looked constipated. _“Dad would flip out if he knew.”_

Dean actually whirled around in his seat to glare directly at Sam. _“Don’t you fucking dare! Now when I turn around we’ll just pretend none of this happened. Okay?”_

Dean wasn’t sure if Sam mistranslated what his looks meant, or if Sam was such a little shit that he purposely ignored them when he said, “So, Cas, you’re an alpha.”

“Yes, I am. And you are still unpresented.”

Sam tensed, ready for a retort, not realizing that Cas was just swapping one obvious fact for another.

“Chill, Sam,” Dean barked. “And get your damn seatbelt on so we can get the fuck out of here.”

Sam complied, but kept his eyes pinned to Castiel. Castiel returned his attention back to his book, while Dean resisted the urge to bang his head against the steering wheel.

This was off to a great start already.


	12. Overprotective

Dean’s brother did not like Castiel. Castiel might be lacking in knowledge of most social cues, but even he wasn’t oblivious enough to mistake the distrust in Sam’s eyes, the narrowed lips, and the way his whole body was tense as anything other than signs of disdain.

If given the chance, Sam looked like he would punch Castiel.

Castiel did not know what he did to warrant such a reaction from the younger boy, but he wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that he was an older male. From the limited information Dean had told him about their father, it sounded like the ex-Marine was a negligent parent at best, and feared he was abusive at worst.

If the latter was true, then there was no wonder the younger boy would be nervous around him.

A frightened animal was the most dangerous one, after all.

Castiel’s own military status and alpha designation probably only increased his unease.

“Don’t worry, Sammy, I promise that I will provide proper care for you while your brother is at work,” Castiel vowed.

“It’s Sam, not Sammy,” the boy said with a glare.

“I apologize. Dean usually refers to you as—”

“Yeah, I know. I can’t get him to stop.”

“That’s because to me, you’ll always be the stupid brat who broke his arm because he was pretending to be a superhero and jumped off the shed roof,” Dean said, coming out of the bathroom he had used to get ready for work.

Sam turned red.“Hey, you did it first! I was just following your lead!”

“Yeah, but I walked away from it unscathed,” Dean teased before turning back towards Castiel. “You sure you got everything okay?”

“Yes. There’s soup in the cupboard, plenty of liquids to keep Sam hydrated in the fridge, and my internal phone book now has your number as well as Ellen’s.”

“I’m sure Ellen is going to love that,” Sam grumbled.

“I’m pretty sure she’d be pissed if she wasn’t listed as an emergency contact,” Dean pointed out and Sam seemed to concede.

At least on that topic.

“Seriously, Dean? Do I really need to have a babysitter? I’m friggin’ seventeen!”

“Cas isn’t your babysitter,” Dean corrected, looking down at his beta patch to make sure that it was still on straight, and not peeling up. “He’s your nurse to make sure you don’t do something stupid. You know, like die.”

“It’s just food poisoning, it’s no big deal.”

“It has the word _poison_ in the friggin’ name!”

“Oh come on, Dean! It’s not that serious.”

“Actually, hundreds of thousands of people get hospitalized annually for food poisoning,” Castiel helpfully informed. “Sometimes it is even fatal.”

“See!” Dean exclaimed, gesturing wildly between Sam and Castiel.

“Sure, just listen to the alpha,” Sam growled. “Well, I’m going to be in my room. You know, unless Castiel needs to be up my ass the entire time.”

“Sam!”

“Actually, I would prefer not to be anywhere near his posterior,” Castiel inputted.

Sam glared at Cas. “Weirdo,” the boy declared before skulking off to his bedroom.

“Hey, watch it!” Dean snapped before turning apologetically to Castiel. “I swear, he’s usually the nice brother. That food poisoning must be messing with him bad if he’s being such a dick.”

“It’s alright, I imagine anyone would be in a surly mood if they couldn’t hold anything down in their stomach.”

Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, “You can admit he’s being a brat. You also can bail if this is going to be too much.”

“Dean, I’ve survived eight years in a hostile war zone. Trust me, a grumpy teenager isn’t concerning to me.”

Dean gave a weak smile. “Yeah, but you should be relaxing.”

“Don’t worry, I intend to still do so. I have my books to keep me entertained, and in between chapters I’ll be checking in on Sammy. I also promise to give you updates as they come along.”

Dean’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Seriously, Cas, I owe you big time.”

“You owe me nothing. If you want to repay me in any way, then all I ask is for you to have faith in me, and focus on work.”

“That sounds fair enough.” Dean gave him a half smirk. “But remember, if it does get to be too much, don’t be ashamed to back out.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but it would be shameful for me to go back on my promise. However, if I do find out I am in over my head, I promise to get aid.”

“Fine, fine. Good luck holding down the fort.” He then turned towards the direction of Sam’s closed door and raised his voice. “I’m heading out, bitch. Remember, you stain it, you clean it up!”

“Jerk!” Sam called out in response.

Dean gave Castiel one last grateful smile, and a gentle clap on the shoulder before heading out the door.

Sam’s own door was still firmly shut, and with a resounded huff, Castiel grabbed his book on the 101 facts about honeybees, and settled into the old recliner for some reading.

Castiel was on his 90th fact when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone retching into the toilet.

“Sam?” he called out, closing his book and heading towards the bathroom.

“Leave me alone,” the boy whimpered.

Cautiously nudging the door open, Castiel found Sam kneeling in front of the toilet, his face pressed against the toilet seat.

“Do you need anything? I can get you some water or—”

“I said leave me alone,” the boy hissed, but didn’t even have the energy to lift his head.

‘Do you need help getting back to your room?”

“Are you deaf? I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”

Castiel raised his hands defensively, not sure what he did to deserve the boy’s wrath, and said, “Alright. I’ll be nearby if you need me.”

He returned to his book, but kept an ear out for any signs that Sam would need him. By the time he finished his bee book, he was concerned about the fact that he never heard Sam leave the bathroom, and decided to check up on him.

“Do you need assistance in getting back to your room?”

Sam groaned, “No point. I’m going to end up back here soon enough.”

Castiel frowned. “Do you want a blanket?”

“...I might get it dirty.”

“Then I’ll put it in the wash. Now are you chilled? I imagine being on the cold tile isn’t doing your body temperature any favors.”

“Yeah… yeah, a blanket would be nice.”

“Do I have permission to enter your room?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Castiel hurried to the room and noticed a fleece blanket on the edge of one of the twin beds. He wasn’t sure which bed belonged to whom, but he assumed Dean wouldn’t mind sharing if it was his.

While picking up the blanket, Castiel’s nose picked up the delicious apple scent on the fabric, and instinctively brought the blanket closer to his nostrils to inhale. A happy hum escaped his mouth as the scent washed over him.

He spent so many years where his blankets smelled like dust and sweat, he had forgotten the difference it made of having something washed in good quality detergents.

Castiel would need to ask what brand Dean used so he could invest in it in the future. He wouldn’t mind falling asleep and waking up to that scent everyday.

Reluctantly, he relinquished the blanket over to Sam, but made sure that it was firmly wrapped over the boy, and even checked his forehead while in his space to check for a fever. His head was clammy, but not warm enough to be concerning.

“Want anything to drink?” Castiel asked, hoping that the boy would be more receptive to help now.

“You don’t have to try so hard,” Sam grumbled. “Hell, why are you even here?”

“Because your brother—”

“No, I mean why are you here? I know my brother, and I know he doesn’t have any alpha friends. So who are you really and why the hell are you here?”

“I _am_ your brother’s friend,” Castiel assured, for some reason irked at the insinuation that he wasn’t. Despite knowing each other for less than twenty-four hours, Castiel knew that Dean was one of the best friends he could have asked for. “And as stated before, I’m here to keep an eye on you.”

“But why?”

“Because we both know that if I didn’t, then he would call out from his bar shift. The only place he is earning an income from. Not to mention that if this night is as busy as Dean claims, then that means he leaves poor Ellen short-handed last second, and he will miss out on making some remarkable tips.”

Sam pursed his lips, saying, “I’m seventeen, he doesn’t have to worry about me.”

Castiel huffed out a laugh. “I might not have known Dean for long, but even I know that he would never be able to do that. You are the most important thing in the world to him, and he’d be worried about you all shift. At least if you have someone to keep an eye out for you, he’ll be able to focus on work.”

“Damn,” Sam cursed, slowly lifting his head. “You really do know my brother.”

“In a way, but there is still much to learn about him,” Castiel admitted. “But I look forward to learning more.”

“I’d be careful about that. Dean is a private person, and the easiest way to piss him off is by digging too deep,” Sam warned.

“Noted.” Although Castiel was surprised, considering how forthcoming Dean had been thus far.

Then again, even though Castiel revealed many intimate details about his life, there were still things he hadn’t shared with Dean. Important facets that Dean should probably be aware of.

But Castiel couldn’t bring himself to admit it out loud, afraid of how Dean would take the news. Fearing how differently the beta would treat him.

Perhaps Dean felt the same way with his own truths?

Either way, Castiel wouldn’t pry into his friend’s life. He was never one to ask for more than what someone was willing to offer freely.

“What have you been doing anyway?” Sam asked. “I didn’t hear the TV go off, or any music playing.”

“Oh, I’ve been reading. A factoid book about bees, actually.”

“Wow. You’re… I wouldn’t expect an alpha to be reading that.”

Castiel refrained from rolling his eyes and said, “I get that a lot. However, I have a genuine curiosity about bees and plant life.”

“Learn anything interesting?”

“Many interesting things. For example, did you know that when a bee changes a job in the colony, it actually changes its brain chemistry in order to fit into that mold?”

“Really?” Sam asked, for once sounding engaged in the conversation.

“Yes. It’s fascinating, they create different proteins and those proteins determine brain and behavioral functions. Can you imagine what it would be like if that happened to humans?”

“I don’t know, that would actually make sense for Dad.”

John Winchester, who once upon a time had been a great mechanic and a great father. Now he was a simple laborer who barely saw his kids for more than a couple of minutes at a time.

Castiel knew better than to keep on that trail of thought, and changed the subject. “Wonder what that says about me. Since I am also in the process of changing a job.”

“What were you before?”

“An airman in the Air Force,” Castiel said, omitting the fact that he was a captain.

He could have been a major, but had declined the offer when he found out that he would have been spending more time on the ground doing paperwork than being up in the air with his men.

“Huh, I wasn’t expecting that, but then I guess that makes sense since you are an alpha. Dad wants me to join the Marines if I end up presenting as an Alpha. Is one better over the other?”

“Depends on who you ask. The main thing is to figure out where you are more comfortable being. Land, sea, in between, or sky. I personally preferred sky. Always wanted to know what it felt like to fly.”

“How does it feel?”

Castiel smiled softly. “Like nothing else in the world. There’s this feeling of both freedom and absolute control. A limbo between feeling the exhilaration of being alive, and knowing that you are one misstep away from a catastrophic death.”

Sam laughed weakly, “Dean would shit himself if he was in your shoes. He’s terrified of flying, and doesn’t trust how planes work.”

“But he’s a mechanic. He should have a better understanding than most about how they operate.”

“He should, but he thinks they are unnatural. Ironic, considering how most of the things he likes to eat are so artificial that they should be considered supernatural themselves.”

Castiel made note that he really should check their yard, so that the boys could get started on growing a garden so they could have real ingredients.

“So what are you in line to be?” Sam asked. “Once alphas are Stateside, they get put in the job placement they elected, right?”

“Correct, though their performance while in service determines whether or not they are capable of their future career, and what beginning rank they get. That is why it’s encouraged to make yourself useful while in service. As for me… I’m still not sure what my position will be. I… I had to fill out that my father would determine my role in his… company.”

Sam made a face, and for a moment Castiel was concerned that Sam was going to throw up again before he said, “I would hate it if John was in charge of my future like that. Um, though I guess it won’t be as bad with your dad?”

“I would hope, but that is unlikely.” Castiel put a hand to the wall and studied the warped paint. “I don’t think he really knows anything about me, much less how my mind works. He won’t be trying to find me a position that I will enjoy, or that I will be talented in. It will simply be whatever position is available that keeps me in close sight.”

Sam groaned.

“He is even arranging an omega for me to pick as my mate. I know I get to make the final verdict in that regard, but I’m still forced to make a choice, even if I’m not a fan of any of the candidates.”

“I think I’m going to barf.”

“Yes, the idea is nauseat—” Castiel then realized that Sam was being literal as he once again lost his fight with his stomach.

Castiel debated about rubbing Sam’s back as a way to comfort him, but he assumed the prickly teenager would only grow more irate at him. Instead, he went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of Gatorade, and offered it once the boy’s insides were no longer rebelling.

“Here. Swish it in your mouth first to get rid of the aftertaste, and then you can drink it. We don’t want you to get dehydrated, and the electrolytes will help as well.”

“Thanks.” Sam hesitantly reached for the drink, but didn’t unscrew the cap. “I still don’t get it. Why are you being so nice to me?”

They both knew that Sam had wanted to add in the admittance that he had been behaving poorly towards Castiel’s kindness.

“You’re very important to Dean, thus your wellbeing is important to me as well.”

“See, who says things like that? Especially since we both know that you haven’t known Dean that long. I bet you haven’t even known him for a full day yet.”

Castiel couldn’t properly argue that.

Didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

“It feels like I’ve known him forever. As strange and unconventional as it is, I feel like the two of us have become close friends, and I want to do whatever I can in my power to help Dean out as much as he needs it.”

“What do you get out of it?” Sam challenged.

“To not feel like a freak,” Castiel said. He inwardly cursed himself for letting that slip off of his tongue. By Sam’s darkened expression, he didn’t appreciate the confession either.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Castiel wished that he could just run away instead of answering, but he was a trained warrior of the government, and would not be intimidated by some teenager hunched over a toilet. However, this didn’t mean that Castiel needed to face the boy’s scrutiny head on, and chose to sit down on the bathroom floor, and focused on the bathroom mat instead.

He couldn’t tell if the mat was supposed to be brown, or if so many years of stains had permanently discolored it. Either way, he would be sure to replace it before he left Kansas.

The whole house could do with a makeover and renovations.

“Well?” Sam demanded.

Castiel took in a steadying breath before starting, “I know I’m an oddity. Not just for my designation, but in general. I never know how to read a social situation, or how to say the proper thing. However, that doesn’t seem to matter when I’m with Dean. I feel like I can speak my mind and he won’t judge me. In fact, he even seems to encourage my curiosities, and doesn’t mind when I say something outlandish.”

Castiel cautiously toed the stained mat before drawing his leg closer to his body. “In all honesty, I should have been back home in the Capitol by now, but I just can’t bring myself to take the steps to leave. I know that when I do, that I wouldn’t be able to come back. Not if my family has any say, and they most surely will. So instead, I’m finding any excuse I can to stay.”

Any excuse so he can stay in the presence of Dean’s warmth. There was something about the beta that made Castiel feel comfortable in his own skin, and made him feel like he wasn’t the strange creature that everyone else had treated him as.

_“He’s so weird, no wonder no one in his family talks about him.”_

_“It’s like talking to a robot sometimes. Is he even human?”_

_“Stop talking, nobody cares about your stupid flowers.”_

_“No way that freak’s a real alpha.”_

_“Man, how fucked up do you have to be for your own mom to kill herself so she doesn’t have to deal with you?”_

Castiel dug his nails deep into his palms, trying to force those whispers out of his head. It was strange that they had quieted during war.

Then again, it was easy to drown out those voices when there were the additional sounds of gunshots, explosions, and men’s final cries to vibrate through his skull.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, for once all hostility gone from his tone.

“Yes, just… was reminded of unpleasant things.”

“Was it from the war?”

“Shockingly, no. Though I suppose you can say it’s from my own personal battles.” Castiel readjusted, and rested his chin on top of his kneecaps. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I like who I am around your brother. I like that he can make me smile and laugh so easily. I usually don’t smile, have even been told that I’m ‘too serious,’ but your brother can draw one out of me with just a warm look.”

Castiel slowly rotated his head so that he could look at Sam, who was staring back at Castiel with wide eyes, and said, “Perhaps if I find a way to be useful, I can continue to have his friendship?”

“That’s not how friends work,” Sam said, his hands tightening around the Gatorade bottle. “You don’t just have friends because they’re useful or serve some purpose. You have friends because they are people who… who you like being around and who you can trust.”

“I suppose then that I might never have had friends before. There’s always been something purposeful to the arrangement.”

“You know what? Dean doesn’t really have friends either. He’s always been too busy taking care of me and Dad to have any time for himself. Maybe it would be good for both of you to have each other. Just swear one thing to me?”

“Of course.”

“Promise me that you won’t hurt him.” Sam’s face shone with a vulnerability that he didn’t even show when in the worst throes of his illness. “It’s not just because you are an alpha, but because you’re a high-ranking alpha. If this friendship ends—and if it does, it will go down in a boom because Dean doesn’t do anything subtle—you got to swear that you won’t do anything to hurt him.”

“Hurt him? I would never raise a hand against him.”

“Even if Dean got under your skin? Dean fights dirty when he feels cornered. But that wasn’t what I meant. All it takes is for you to say something bad about Dean, or question his integrity, and we’ll have cops at our door. Even without evidence, they’ll always trust the word of an alpha over anyone else.”

Castiel stiffened. “That is because alphas have served their time for this country, and deserve respect. However, I would never abuse this respect for something so… so petty.”

Sam continued to study him before slowly nodding, saying, “Then I guess I can stop giving you such a hard time.”

“That would be appreciated.”

Sam looked down nervously and admitted, “I guess I have been a big jerk.”

“Yes, but you are sick, and it is understandable that you would speak without filters. I also understand that you were just looking out for Dean, and I could never fault you for that. Now do you need anything else?”

“Umm...” Sam looked at him sheepishly. “I… I don’t think I’m safe to leave the bathroom yet, but would you mind… I don’t know? Reading to me or something? You know, if you don’t mind.”

Castiel smiled, finally seeing the little brother that Dean fawned over. “I have plenty of reading material. I would be happy to reread the bee factoids if you want? Knowledge is always best when shared with another.”

Sam gave him a shy grin, which was so much like Dean’s own that Castiel could feel himself smiling wider. That was until Sam’s grin turned into a grimace and he cursed under his breath.

“Sam!”

“I’m okay. My stomach just hurts from all the throwing up,” Sam said, placing a hand on the right side of his abdomen.

Castiel eyed the placement of the hand and asked, “Sam, can I feel your forehead?”

Sam weakly lifted his head higher in response, and Castiel cursed when he felt the scalding skin underneath.

“What?”

“Sam, you’re burning up. We need to get you to the hospital immediately.”

“How? Dad’s truck is gone, and Dean took the Impala to work. And there’s no way you’re calling Dean, he’ll freak.”

Castiel pursed his lips in thought before reaching into his back pocket to pull out a cellphone.

“I told you not to call Dean!”

“I’m not,” Castiel assured. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“What?”

“You said we have no way of getting to a hospital, and an ambulance is designed for hospital transport.”

“Yeah, but a trip in one of them costs more than our mortgage! There’s no way we can afford it.”

“But it’s something that I can afford,” Castiel said confidently before dialing 911.

“Dean is not going to like this,” Sam complained.

Castiel disagreed. Dean would want Castiel to do everything in his power to keep Sam safe.

And Castiel had a lot of power that neither brother needed to know about.


	13. Sympathy Pains

Dean felt like _he_ was the one that had food poisoning.

The entire time he was at work, his intestines felt like they were all knotted up together like some sort of demented balloon animal. If it wasn’t for the steady crowd of patrons, Dean would have been checking his phone for updates on how things were going with Sam.

Then he got the call from Castiel.

Dean was grateful that Ellen waved him off when she heard the buzzing and told him to go take his break if needed. He wasn’t expecting to hear the sound of an ambulance in the background.

“Cas? Is Sam okay? What happened?”

“Sam… Sam got a fever. I’m en route to the hospital now.”

“In an ambulance?” Dean didn’t know exactly how much those things cost but he knew he’d be putting in extra hours for at least a year.

Shit, there would be no way for him to afford a hospital visit as well, and John’s shitty beta health insurance wasn’t going to make a dent in the bill.

He was going to be in debt forever.

“There was no other way to get him there in a timely fashion, and don’t concern yourself about the costs.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I’ve got it covered. I’m the one who called them so it is my responsibility to take care of the debt.”

“That’s not how that works. Sammy is—”

“Is my charge until you finish your full work shift. I have this handled, Dean. Trust me.”

He barely knew the alpha. By all rights he shouldn’t trust him.

“I do,” Dean said, instead. “Just let me know what room you guys end up in, and I’ll be right over.”

“After your shift, you mean?”

“Huh? No, if Sam’s in the hospital then I should be right there.”

“Dean, don’t be a dumbass,” Sam complained, his voice muffled. “You said you needed to be there tonight.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts. Cas says it might be nothing.”

“You’re in a goddamn ambulance, Sam!”

“For a fever and a stomachache! I’ll be fine.”

“Sam, can I have the phone back? Hello, Dean. As Sam stated, this might just be a false alarm. Don’t use your valuable vacation time on something that is under control. Think of it this way, if it is something major then you can take tomorrow off. It will be a less chaotic workday and then you get to spend the whole day with Sam.”

“You didn’t sign up for a hospital shift.”

“Technically I did. I agreed to take care of Sam until you were done with work. This is taking care of Sam, is it not?”

“Shit, Cas, do you know how much I’m going to owe you when this is all over?”

“How about some of those Roadhouse burgers when you get off shift? I prefer mine rare with no onions.”

“Monster. Onions belong on a burger.”

“I’m not a fan of the texture, but do you agree that you’ll get me a burger or two?”

“You do know I owe you a lot more than just two burgers, right?”

“I’m aware, but I couldn’t possibly eat more than two in one sitting,” Castiel teased, and Dean could imagine the smile playing across his lips. “I guess this just means you’ll have to slowly repay me over time with multiple burger runs.”

“That means you’re going to have to stick around Kansas. I can’t send a Roadhouse burger all the way to the Capitol.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing,” Castiel laughed, but then stopped to listen to a voice behind him. “The kind paramedic has informed me that we are pulling up to the hospital, and I should hang up now. I promise to keep you updated, and I’ll call again if anything urgent pops up.”

“You better,” Dean growled, to cover the fear that was building. “But… thanks, Cas. For everything.”

“You have nothing to thank me for, Dean. Trust me.”

Dean wanted to argue, but instead was met with silence as Castiel hung up. He stared wistfully at his phone, not noticing when Ellen snuck up behind him.

“What was that all about?”

“That was Cas. He had to take Sam to the hospital because he developed a fever, and the school nurse warned us that could be a bad sign.”

“Damn, all of this over clam chowder? Next time tell the boy to just ask me when he’s craving some chowder, and not to trust a school cafeteria.”

“I know.” Dean shifted nervously. “Honestly, I usually pack him lunch so he doesn’t have to eat the shit in the cafeteria, but we were running late this morning and I didn’t have time to do more than pass him a ten along with breakfast.”

Ellen studied him closely, then said, “Don’t tell me you are boneheaded enough to think that this is somehow your fault.”

Dean shrugged, knowing better than to try to answer her.

“Dean, you aren’t super human. Even moms have to take our downtime and take shortcuts. It doesn’t make you a bad guardian for not having it all together every second of the day.”

Dean knew that, but it didn’t make him feel any better about the issue. If Dean had remembered to set an alarm then Sam and Cas wouldn’t be on their way to a hospital now.

“Do you need to take off?” Ellen asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but her shoulders were tense. Clearly she didn’t want him to have to take off tonight.

“Nah, Cas says he has it covered for now. But if it does end up being serious, would you mind if I take off tomorrow?”

“Course not. Hell, I know for a fact Bobby won’t have an issue either.”

“You sure? My shifts are state-mandated.”

“It’s mandated that you are there at least 20 hours a week unless there's an emergency. You’re a hard worker, you can make them up another day.”

“Good to know.”

“Now if that’s settled, then get your ass back to work.”

“What? That was like a ten-minute break.”

“Yeah, but I know you’re going to be looking at your phone every five minutes. Just grab yourself a bag of chips behind the bar and count yourself lucky.”

“I already know I am.”

Honestly, Dean did count himself lucky. Despite living in a craphole home that was not big enough for him and Sam, a dead mom, and a deadbeat dad who either wasn’t around or was passed out on the couch; Dean didn’t feel alone. He had Sammy, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, and Rufus. He even had Castiel now.

The only way his luck would turn would be if something happened to Sammy...which he was _not_ going to let himself think about.

Grabbing a bag of barbecue chips, he quickly munched on his snack in between dealing with drink orders and shooting off texts to Cas and Sam.

Though it was hard to stay optimistic when he was surrounded in a room full of mourners.

“I just don’t get it,” a woman sobbed into her companion’s shoulder. “They told us that Ronald died two years ago. Why couldn’t they just tell us then? Why did they have to make us wait until now to find out that he was gone?”

“I don’t know,” the other woman said grimly. “I guess they assume no news is good news.”

“It’s bullshit, that’s what it is,” the woman screeched. “We celebrated two of his birthdays when he was in a matchbox. Two! This whole time we thought he turned twenty-one when he never even made it past nineteen.”

Dean turned around and saw an older gentleman sitting alone, two beer bottles sitting in front of him, and his open wallet propped up against a napkin dispenser.

“I told you, Wally. When you made it back home I’d get you your first beer. Well, here it is, just as I promised. Cheers.” The man clinked the beers together before quickly chugging down the one, followed soon by the other.

Dean’s stomach dropped at the sight, and he was grateful to hear his familiar ringtone go off. Or at least he _was_ , until he remembered that the phone call might not be good news.

“What is it?” Dean asked once he relocated himself to the backroom.

“We got a diagnosis. Sam doesn’t have food poisoning, he has appendicitis. Well, correction, the clam chowder wasn’t good, but it might not have been responsible for his nausea.”

“What’s this mean?” Dean asked, heart pounding. He knew the basics from _Dr. Sexy_ that appendicitis meant they would need to remove the appendix, but usually those people came into the hospital with the organ ready to burst.

“Luckily they caught it in time, so it’s not going to rupture. Since it’s not in a critical stage they are going to follow protocol, and take the eight hours it requires to prep him for surgery.”

Dean looked at a nearby wall clock and asked, “Shit, they’ll be doing the surgery at 5 AM?”

“Yes, but this means you have plenty of time to finish your shift, and then join us at the hospital. I made sure to get us a room set up with cots.”

Dean laughed, because it just all sounded so fucking ridiculous. “You’re making it sound like you just booked us a crappy motel room, not a stay overnight in the hospital.”

“Both are lodging, so it is similar.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Dean complained, slouching against the closed door.

“I know, but I do promise you that things will be alright.”

“Will they? Shit, Cas, we couldn’t afford the ambulance. Our insurance will at least cover the surgery fee, but that the rest? I have no idea what we’re—”

“I already made a payment plan with the hospital for whatever the insurance won’t cover. Although, I am concerned as to why you think your insurance won’t cover that much. Wasn’t your father a Marine? Shouldn’t he be getting military grade insurance?”

“He should, but then he got the alcoholism mark on his patch. He now has substance abuser grade insurance.”

Everyone in their country was lucky enough to have insurance, but some were more lucky than others. The worst grade of insurance was for substance abusers, since a majority of their health package was set aside for the inevitable day when they came in because their poison was killing them.

With some set aside for the eventual funeral costs when they couldn’t be saved.

Because of this, any other emergency funds would have to be paid out of pocket. Which sucked, but Dean could at least appreciate the fact that when John finally drank himself to death that neither brother would have to worry about funeral expenses.

“Is your father aware that if he attends meetings and counseling, he can get an upgrade in insurance? And if he stays sober for two years then he can get regular beta health insurance?”

“Oh he’s aware, but he’s not willing to give up his booze for that,” Dean scathingly admitted. “Trust me, I’ve had enough arguments with Dad about that one.”

“Regardless, your bills are covered. I’ll be sure to make the first payment once Sam gets discharged.”

“Wait, why the hell are you paying anything?”

Castiel sighed, “I told you, Dean. I already made a payment arrangement with the hospital.”

“Yeah, I thought you meant for us to handle!”

“I wouldn’t make a payment plan for you when I’m not even sure what is in your budget. Trust me, Dean, I have the money for it.”

“What, from your rich daddy’s money?” Dean snipped angrily.

“Actually, from my mother’s life insurance. When she committed suicide, I ended up with an impressive fortune that I don’t want to use on myself,” Castiel said stiffly. “I’d rather use her blood money on those who need it.”

Dean froze, not knowing how to respond to that.

“Don’t think of it as owing anything to me. Think of it as me having the opportunity to turn a traumatic experience into something that can bring good.”

“I-I...” Dean swallowed. “I think I'm going to need to get you more than just burgers now. Sounds like I owe you some wings and pizza as well. Hell, and a movie trip.”

“I would appreciate that a lot,” Castiel said, and once again Dean could hear the smile in his voice.

“Anyway, I need to get back to work before Ellen chases me out of here with her towel. Keep me updated?”

“Of course."

“Oh, and make sure to tell Sam that I’ll be there as soon as my shift is over. And that I… that I...” Dean couldn’t get out the rest of those two words. The last time he said those seven letters, it was to his mom and she died only a couple of hours after the spoken phrase.

It was stupid and superstititious, but he felt like those words spoken by him were a curse, and he couldn’t risk that before Sam had to have major surgery.

“Don’t worry, Dean,” Castiel said softly, understanding Dean more in that moment than anyone’s ever understood him in his life. “I’ll let him know. Though I’m sure he knows it already. I’m also sure that you know he feels the same way.”

Dean felt his eyes prickle and he aggressively rubbed at them to make sure that no tears fell. Last thing he needed to be doing was joining the pity party that was happening on the other side of the door.

“Thanks, Cas. Seriously, I have no idea what I would be doing right now without you. I know this has really put a dent in your plans for getting home soon.”

“To tell you the truth, I’d much rather be here at a hospital with Sam than back home. You weren’t exaggerating when you said Sam is a remarkable and bright young man. Despite the age gap, I am enjoying his company.”

Dean felt a rush of warmth and satisfaction, knowing that his brother and his new best friend were getting along well. He quickly chased that feeling away with a loud cough.

“Anyway, I gotta run. I probably won’t get there until 1:30 AM so don’t wait up for me. Feel free to take a nap, or something.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Enjoy the rest of your shift. See you in a couple of hours.”

“Yeah. See ya soon,” Dean said, hanging up the phone so he wouldn’t linger any longer than necessary.

Shit, since when did he start sounding like some lovesick omega?


	14. Not What I Am

When Castiel told Dean that he had paid for Sam’s stay at the hospital, Dean had assumed that the alpha paid for the beta family section of the hospital. Specifically, the lower income beta section, which was where the Winchesters should have been stationed.

Instead Sam was upgraded to the alpha family section with a room that was clearly for a wealthy alpha family plan.

Instead of a dinky hospital room that was shared with two other patients, separated only by a thin curtain for “privacy,” they had a private room that was bigger than Dean’s basement. The hospital beds looked like they were actually comfortable, the usual seats were recliners, and there was even a 65-inch flat screen hanging on the wall.

Despite the giant TV, Sam and Castiel were gathered around Sam’s bed, with Castiel animatedly reading from a tattered book in his hands.

“ _If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ‘em. Thy Fates open—_ ”

“Wait,” Sam interrupted, not noticing Dean yet, his focus completely on Cas. “That’s where this big Shakespearean quote came from? I thought it was supposed to be some big, important speech. Not some crabby guy reading a fake love letter that’s trying to seduce him.”

Dean snickered, “What the hell are you nerds reading?”

Sam finally noticed Dean and smiled wide. Sam was pale, his long hair greasy and sticking to his sweaty forehead, and he had an IV stuck in his arm, but he was not on his deathbed like Dean had imagined.

“We’re reading Shakespeare’s _Twelfth Night_ , and you are the nerd who bought it for me.”

Dean shrugged. “It looked boring, so I figured that it would be right up your alley.”

“It’s actually pretty funny. It’s about these beta twins, Violet and Sebastion, who get separated, and it looks like the brother dies, so his sister decides to take her brother’s place and pretends to be him so she has a better chance at getting a job. She ends up working for an alpha duke who is in love with this omega named Olivia, and makes Violet try to woo Olivia for him. Only Olivia starts falling in love with Violet, thinking she’s Sebastion. But Violet is actually in love with the duke. It’s this big crazy love triangle.”

“Got it, I bought you a ye ol’ chick flick,” Dean teased.

Sam stuck out his tongue and shot back, “Whatever. Shakespeare was pretty ahead of his time. So get this, in the original version Sebastian and Violet are alpha twins, so not only was there a female alpha in his play, but he also supported alpha/alpha relationships, since it’s pretty obvious that Violet is going to end up with the duke.”

Dean shot Sam a warning look. He got it, the idea of seeing an alpha female in media was awesome because it was like seeing a piece of their mom still alive, but Sam didn’t need to broadcast it so loud.

“It was most likely done as a result of Queen Elizabeth’s reign,” Castiel inputted. “Many women rulers in past history claimed to be alphas so that no one would fight them for their throne. Shakespeare writing a protagonist who was an alpha female was considered a sign of respect to her and her claim.”

“So why did censorship have to change it?” Sam demanded.

Dean really hoped that anyone passing by would pay Sam no mind and just blame it on his pain meds.

“The government thought it was dangerous to keep up the myth that females could be anything but a beta or omega. Or even more preposterous, the accounts of a male being an omega and having the ability to give birth.”

“Yeah, that does sound pretty far-fetched,” Dean said. He made sure not to betray any expression, and was grateful that Sam also had a carefully placed mask on his face.

“But that’s why many books had characters altered back to a more realistic designation,” Castiel explained.

“Why is it so bad that fictional books had characters that were alpha females or omega males?” Sam challenged.

Castiel looked down and said, “I’m not sure. I don’t see how it could hurt anyone if people were informed that the tales are just works of fiction. I suppose something had to have happened for the government to decide that it was worth censoring.”

But what could be so bad that Dean’s very existence was considered fictional, and anyone discovering that truth could lead to his death? What was so wrong with what he was?

Why did his mother have to die for who she was?

Sam cleared his throat nervously, an awful habit he did whenever he felt uncomfortable. It was at least the distraction that Dean needed.

“Hey, what are you doing up so late anyway? It’s almost 2 AM, and you have surgery in like, three hours.”

“Exactly, I’ll be able to sleep when I’m on the operating table,” Sam argued, making Dean roll his eyes.

“Nice try, but you should be getting a decent amount of sleep.”

“Ugh, but everything feels so uncomfortable.”

“Really? Because that bed is looking pretty comfy from where I’m standing.”

“Not the bed, jerk. I’m uncomfortable because one of my organs decided to go suicide bomber.”

“At least it was only a worthless one,” Dean teased. “But seriously, you should be sleeping.”

“Would it make you feel better to know that Sam was napping off and on most of your work shift? Not too long, but he’s gotten at least four hours straight and another two hours here and there,” Castiel chipped in.

Dean looked at Cas in half suspicion and curiosity. “And how much sleep have you gotten?”

“None,” Sam piped up. “He’s been back and forth between watching me, and talking to the nurses.”

Dean glared at Cas, only for him to glare back. “You have been awake longer than I have, and you are younger than me. You don’t need to impose a bedtime for me,” Cas argued.

“Yeah, but you should be in bed by now.”

“I was up this late yesterday, and I’ll get some sleep when you finally do.”

“Probably won’t be too long from now,” Dean admitted before sweeping around the room, looking for the cot that Cas promised. “Hey, where am I supposed to sleep?”

“Oh, the chairs convert into a twin mattress. Let me demonstrate.”

Dean eyed the comfy recliner suspiciously, but then took it back when moments later Castiel worked his magic and transformed it into a bed.

“Holy shit, I need to get me one of them!”

“It would probably make your bedroom more spacious if you could get rid of one of the twins. Though I’m not sure if these were meant for everyday use,” Castiel noted, though was oblivious to how embarrassed his observation made Dean.

The fact that Castiel had been able to afford this room and Sam’s treatment without a second thought reminded Dean of how different their lives were, and he was mortified that Castiel had to see the crapper that was their home.

“Yeah… so, umm, when do you need me to drive you back to your hotel? Obviously we can’t do anything tonight because my late night curfew is now expired, but I can take you home after Sam’s surgery.”

Castiel looked disappointed as he said, “Oh, that’s alright. I can catch a taxi. Sam’s going to need to stay in the hospital for another 24 hours post-surgery, and I know you won’t want to be separated from him.”

“That’s because Dean’s a mother hen,” Sam grumbled.

Dean used his middle finger to demonstrate a more fitting bird for Sam, before turning back to Castiel. “I swear, I don’t mind. You’ve done a lot for us already, and anything to save you some money. ...Unless you want to get out of our hair sooner?”

“Do you want me to… get out of your hair?” Castiel stumbled over the phrasing, and his eyes looked sad. Like Dean had just told him to leave and never come back.

“I mean, you’ve been with a Winchester almost nonstop. You should be sick of us by now.”

“I enjoy the company,” Castiel defended. “Trust me, you have not been keeping me longer than I wanted. I _want_ to stay.”

Dean never knew anyone who wanted to stay before. Not with him. Dean could never keep any friends among his classmates; never having time to hang out with them when he was in school, and then they all went their separate ways after graduation. John wouldn’t stick around for long, even if Dean paid him to, and even Sammy had his eyes on greener pastures that didn’t include Dean.

It seemed like a sick joke that the first person that wanted to stay with Dean was a rich alpha.

“Well as long as we’re not bending your arm to get you to stay.” Dean gave a shy smile.

“No limb contortion necessary, I promise.” Castiel smiled, almost giddily.

It was incredible how the smallest things made this alpha happy.

Sam cleared his throat again and pointed back at the old paperback that Cas had abandoned on the bed, asking, “Since we’re all still up, why don’t you go back to reading the book? Dean, you’ll love it, he’s got all these awesome voices for all of the characters.”

Castiel blushed as he explained, “I’ve always been a fan of plays, and there’s no way to read Shakespeare without… getting absorbed in the theatrics.”

Dean shouldn’t enjoy all the ways Castiel didn’t fit the alpha male mold. Hell, he definitely didn’t fit the mold of an omega so it really shouldn't be so surprising.

“Wait until you hear him do the women parts!” Sam crowed, making Castiel turn a deeper shade of red.

“On second thought, we could always just settle down and see if we can find something to watch on TV? This room should come with a cable package,” Castiel suggested nervously.

Usually Dean would be all over cable TV, but for once it had no sway over him. “We can watch TV any day, Cas. It’s not everyday we can see a one-man show on Shakespeare.”

Castiel’s shoulders slumped. “Fine, but if you mock me then I’m stopping.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. But laughing in good humor is fair game.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but picked the book up. “Let’s see, where was I... Oh yes. _Thy Fate open their hands…_ ”

Dean smirked at Sam as they both got comfortable in their respective beds. His brother was right: Castiel was entertaining, not only to listen to, but to watch. He read with energy, practically dancing in his seat as he shifted between characters, and using his hands to talk. It wasn’t just his voice that he changed, but his facial expressions, and the way he held himself. He wasn’t just reading the words off the page, but bringing the whole play to life.

As enraptured as Dean was, the stress of the day was catching up to him, and despite his best efforts he could feel his eyelids grow heavy.

_“Then think you right: I am not what I am.”_

Dean wondered if Violet—the original alpha-female version of her—ever felt as lost and confused as he did. Of being a representation of two very different aspects, of being both the _yin_ and the _yang_. Did she find it easier to pretend to be a male-alpha, or did the secrets eat away at her too?

How did she cope with lying to both Olivia and the duke? Did she ever trust any of them with the truth?

Dean realized that he could figure it out if he knew whether or not this play was a comedy or a tragedy. If it was a comedy then after some hijinks ensue, Violet would end up with her true love. If it was a tragedy then she would lose both friends—probably to each other—and end up alone.

He wondered which category his own life was falling into, but unlike the play he quickly had an answer.

As much as he wished for it to be a comedy, he knew it was a tragedy.

Just like his mother's own story.


	15. Thanks for Everything

“You know, I think I get it now,” Sam said a couple of hours later. He was sitting up in his bed with a new IV in his arm, his fingers nervously tapping against the railings of his bed frame. The nurse had given them the heads up that in twenty minutes they were going to prep for surgery, and both of them were anxious while trying not to act like it.

“What? Why you’re feeling so loopy? I’m pretty sure that's because they snuck some happy meds into your IV.”

Sam gave him Bitch Face #21, the ‘Dean, I’m trying to have a serious moment’ face. “Actually I’m talking about Cas. I think I get why you like him now.”

Dean shot a paranoid glance around the room, even though Castiel had left about five minutes prior so that the boys could have some time together before the surgery. Once he was sure the room was clear, he turned back to Sam, desperately hoping that Sam hadn’t read Dean so easily.

He didn’t need his brother pitying him for a stupid crush.

“He’s a pretty awesome guy,” Sam continued, his fingers no longer tapping on the railings in favor of playing with his hospital bracelet. “At first glance he’s not really someone I picture you being friends with—”

Dean let out a weak laugh. “Tell me about it.”

A wealthy, war hero alpha, and a grease monkey omega pretending to be a beta? It just didn’t make sense how the two of them could even hold a single conversation together, let alone strike up a meaningful friendship.

“He just seems so… _boring_ at first, and you are the most excitable person I know,” Sam said, surprising Dean. “But then you two talk and it just makes _sense_. You both smile at each other like it’s the first time you’ve ever smiled, and I’ve never heard you laugh like you do when he's around. Even when you were stressing, he was able to calm you. And… he really seems to care a lot about you.”

Dean closed his eyes, sinking further back into his chair-that-used-to-be-a-bed. “Yeah, they definitely got you on the good shit. Either that or you read too much Shakespeare last night.”

“Whatever. I’m just trying to say… you know, sorry I was giving you such a rough time before. I was judging him just because he was an alpha, and that wasn’t right. I also should have trusted your opinion—”

“Damn right you should!”

“Ugh, now I don’t want to continue.”

“Nope, nope. You started it. Now you gotta finish it.”

“Fine,” Sam huffed, glaring at Dean. “I was saying how I should have trusted your opinion because you are _rarely_ wrong when it comes to judging a person. Even if at first glance it doesn’t make sense.”

“I _did_ help you pick your besties,” Dean teased, making Sam roll his eyes.

“You randomly cornered us all together the first day of school, said we all look like a bunch of scrawny nerds, and that we might as well be nerds together.”

“Was I wrong? And hey, I prevented all four of you from awkwardly eating lunch by yourselves for that first week,” Dean pointed out, then flinched.

They never talked about Sam’s middle school friend, Celeste, who was killed in a car accident when they were only twelve.

“Whatever. I’m just saying that I’m glad you finally went ahead and got your own _bestie_ ,” Sam teased before shifting nervously. “I’ve actually been wondering what you would do if I did present alpha, and then you’d be alone for three years. I was afraid you’d do nothing but work, and drink like John.”

Dean felt like he had swallowed nails, regretting that Sam had ever seen him on the bad days when he turned to their dad’s coping mechanism.

“But at least you have Cas now,” Sam said, with a knowing glint in his eyes.

A look that made the nails in Dean’s gut puncture even deeper into his intestines.

“Whoa, before you get any bright ideas there, I should remind you that Cas is from the Capitol, and has a job waiting for him once I stop holding him up.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“He also has three omega candidates for a future mating,” Dean bit out, and Sam’s face dropped in understanding. “Trust me, Sam. He’s going to have his own life and family soon enough. All I’ll be is just a blip in his life.”

“I don’t think that’s true, and I don’t think Cas believes that either.”

“Since when did you get all gooey and know-it-all about Cas?”

“What? We had like, almost ten hours to kill from when you left Cas on babysitting duty. There wasn’t much else to do _but_ bond. And you know what I realized? He really cares a lot about you, and already thinks of you as a best friend.”

Dean’s lip twitched and his cheeks warmed as he countered with, “Nah, he just has shitty taste in friends. You should see the other two people he hangs out with.”

‘You mean friends that he ditched so he could hang out with you?”

“Well, duh. That’s because I’m awesome.”

“Exactly, which is why I think he wants to stay in touch with you as well.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“I just want you to be happy,” Sam admitted. “All you’ve ever done is take care of me, and make sure that I’m alright. I want to at least know that you are doing something for yourself.”

“Sam.” Dean’s voice cracked, and he had to swallow to try again. “Sam, ever think that I’m just trying not to get hurt? To get any of us hurt? I know… I know you just want the best for me. But we all got our roles to play, and we should just accept that.”

“What, and not even bother trying?”

“What’s the point if all it does is make a bigger mess of things,” Dean growled. “Sam, I know you’re just trying to help, but you need to respect that it’s my life and let me handle it my way.”

Sam clenched his jaw so tight that Dean could hear the audible clack from where he was sitting. “Fine.”

Groaning, Dean got up and sat at the edge of Sam’s bed. “You know I don’t blame you, right? For the crazy hours I work, and running the household. Yeah, you’re my responsibility, but I have _never_ resented it, or only taken care of you as a sense of obligation.”

Sam shut his eyes, but Dean knew it was to fight back tears.“How the hell do you always know what I’m thinking?”

“I’ve known you your entire existence,” Dean said, gently jabbing him in the side. “That and… you know, I just _know_.”

Sam frowned, then looked around before spotting the familiar black speaker in the ceiling. He turned back to Dean and pointed at his nose, and Dean nodded.

“You know what always confuses me? How do people smell emotions? I know you and Dad are betas and can’t smell them, but did anyone ever explain how it works? How will I know if it works?” Sam asked, but Dean knew what he was really asking.

“From what I heard, it’s pretty complicated and varies from person to person. The main thing everyone seems to agree on is that being able to smell everyone’s emotion is complete bullshit, unless the person is feeling extreme amounts of terror, anger, or sadness. Like bad enough that it's sending a giant rush of hormones through the body. That’s usually what alphas and omegas smell in those cases: the hormones, not the individual. But, for people that you are really familiar with, you can smell their emotions. But these are for people who you already know the scents of; smells that even betas and the unpresented can pick up.”

“You mean like how I know you smell like apple-smoked bacon?” Sam asked, playing along with Dean’s fabricated scent.

“Exactly. So for people you know the scent of, you can pick up when that smell changes a bit. Though it’s not as varied as people think; you can’t tell what the emotion is, only if it’s negative or positive. Like say for me, that apple bacon smell can become super strong when I’m happy; as if there’s a bunch of bacon sizzling on a pan right next to you. But if I was feeling negative then it would have a more sour smell… like spoiled food.”

Sam wrinkled his nose in distaste and said, “Sounds disgusting.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t sound as awesome as some people make it seem. But I’ve heard it does have its usefulness,” Dean laughed, before looking seriously at Sam. “Now do you want to tell me what’s really bothering you?”

“Just… a bunch of little stuff. I’m worried about the surgery. Especially since the doctor says I can’t even go back to school for almost two weeks.”

Dean had a feeling that constantly stressing about Sam’s attendance was to blame and reminded him, “Hey, you heard what Mildred said; they have documents that show you got sick, and you also have hospital records. We’ll just have Jo and Garth bring you homework, and we can all keep you up to speed. I might not have gotten the perfect grades in school, but I was a solid B student.”

“Yeah, but I’m going to miss that mandatory alpha determination test the school holds for seniors.”

Dean shuddered, remembering that awful experience. “Yeah, there’s no way that you’ll be able to handle that post-surgery. I’ll double check with the docs to verify, but I’m sure they can get other arrangements.”

Which was lucky. Dean hoped Sam didn’t ever have to experience the _kennels_.

“I guess I’m worried about presenting in general as well.”

Dean was too. “All we can do is wait and see. Same thing with placements.”

“And I really don’t want you to be lonely.”

Dean took the time to brush back Sam’s long hair. “Trust me, kid. I’m doing just fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“But… I know you want to be a bachelor, but what if you do find your true mate? What if you already did?”

Dean felt his skin prickle with goosebumps at the thought. “Sam, please. Just drop that one. I don’t need a mate to be happy. Plus just because you get mated doesn’t mean you get the happily ever after. What about Dad? Bobby and Ellen? Hell, even Josie got a divorce, and that was in the days when it was still super frowned upon.”

Dean squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “I don’t need anybody else to make me happy. Only I have the power to do that.”

Sam was still frowning, but he nodded.

“Come on, there’s no point in stressing over the tiny things. How about we do something big this weekend? Just the two of us. Your call on what we do.”

“Really? Because there’s a new Egyptian exhibit at the museum that I’ve been wanting to see.”

Fuck, those tickets didn’t come cheap, and Dean’s income was going to take a bit of hit the next couple of days. Though maybe Dean could get a discount on Sam being a student? Either way, Dean didn’t have the heart to tell Sam no.

“Sure thing, kiddo. Plus we might even get to see some real live mummies.”

“I think the whole purpose of mummies is that they’re dead.”

Dean ruffled Sam’s hair the way the boy hated, and laughed at his discomfort. “That’s what you get for being a bitch.”

“Ahem?” a disapproving, female voice called out by the front of the door.

Dean tensed and looked up, spotting a woman in scrubs with short black hair and an ID reading “Tessa” clipped over her beta patch. She did not seem pleased.

“It’s time to get Sam prepped, and it’s best at this point not to get him all riled up,” the beta said, wheeling over a medical cart. “Now if you promise not to stress him out, we can let you stay here until he starts going under, but then we will be wheeling him out to the operating room.”

Dean nodded, quickly getting off the bed. “I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise.”

Tessa gave him a warning glance before turning her full attention on Sam, asking him questions on how he was feeling, and to describe his pain levels before giving him the general anesthesia. Dean held Sam’s hand the entire time, though he wasn’t sure if it was for Sam’s comfort, or his own.

Dean recognized the glazed look in Sam’s eyes, and knew he was slowly sinking under the effects of the anesthesia. “I promise, Sammy. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Don’t…. call… me….” Sam started, but drifted off before he could finish.

Dean shook his head sadly. “You’ll always be Sammy to me.”

Despite having permission to stay in the hospital room, Dean didn’t want to have to watch Sam be wheeled out like that. It was easier for him to be the one to walk away.

He wasn’t expecting to see Castiel sitting outside in the waiting room, holding up a cup of coffee and a bag of takeout. He was still in the same button-up shirt, and the ugly trench coat that he had on the previous day, and his hair was somehow even messier. Dean couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him.

“I brought you some coffee and breakfast. Though the lady at the counter said we’d have to move over to the cafeteria if you wanted to eat it,” Castiel said.

“Alright, but you know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know,” Castiel admitted, smiling sheepishly. “But I wanted to. That and I had a feeling you wouldn’t eat otherwise.”

Dean smiled back, though internally his stomach plummeted at the thought of how nice it felt being the center of Cas’ attention and how much it was going to hurt to no longer have it. “Thanks, Cas. For everything.”


	16. What He Needs

Dean let out a loud moan after his first bite of his breakfast sandwich. It was the perfect taste of cheesy egg and bacon heavenliness, squished together on a fluffy bagel. “Freak, I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“That’s because you haven’t really eaten since lunchtime yesterday,” Castiel pointed out, calmly sipping at his own cup of coffee.

Dean paused, then said, “I had a bag of chips at work.”

“How filling and nutritious.”

“Oh don’t give me that,” Dean said, pointing his sandwich accusingly at Cas. “Shouldn’t you be eating as well?”

“I’m not hungry,” Castiel said with a shrug.

Dean quirked his brow in disbelief.

“It's true. I’m… not really used to eating three large meals a day. In service we lived off of MREs, which were calorie and nutrient control, and admittedly very bland. The food here in comparison is a little too dense and rich for me to eat as frequently. For now, coffee is all I need to sustain myself in the morning.”

“Huh. What else is strange about being back stateside?”

“Well, seeing everyone out of uniform is strange. But honestly, seeing all the different signs of life is the most bizarre. The greenery, the wild animals, and the quaint homes. Seeing children of all ages playing around outside, laughing. To just… be able to exist and enjoy a moment of silence. There’s no echoes of gunshots and bombs in the distance. No sounds of people crying, or worse, dying. It’s jarring, actually. But in the best way possible. Like crawling out of hell, only to resurface into Eden.”

Dean wouldn’t go as far as describing Lebanon as a sanctuary, but he could see why Castiel wouldn’t view it as the gilded cage that Dean did. Castiel didn’t have anything to hide.

“Shame that your first stop was in the literal middle of nowhere,” Dean said with a full mouth.

Castiel didn’t mind his lack of table manners, saying, “I’m rather grateful that I ended up here. I don’t think I would have liked being back in the city immediately. Too loud and too many people. Here… it’s small and quiet. People actually take the time to notice you here.”

It was the noticing part that bothered Dean.

“There’s got to be some perks to the Capitol.”

“I’m sure there are, but I haven’t found anything yet. I was too young to really appreciate the area, or explore much of it, but I would love to see the botanical gardens out there.”

“Then why don’t you?”

Castiel looked down at his own coffee, playing with the tab that sealed the drink. “They… pay closer attention to your designations there. There’s more pressure to do designation-approved activities, so the botanical gardens are really only a beta and omega thing.”

Dean shook his head, asking, “Are you at least allowed there if you are on a date?”

“If my date was an omega then yes. Why?”

“I mean, if you have to ‘court’ those omegas when you get back home, you might as well take them to the places you really want to see but can’t with your designation. That, and it’s a good way to get to know if any of those girls can appreciate the things you love,” Dean said, putting on a smirk, even though his stomach twisted in protest at the idea of Castiel with any other omega.

“That’s a good idea. It might also encourage them to show me the things they like, so that I have a better understanding of who they are.” Castiel smiled, but his looked every bit as fake as Dean’s.

“Though we can also see if we can find a botant-thingy nearby to check out. I mean, if you want. It probably wouldn’t be as awesome as one in a major city, but would probably have some plants you can only find in the Midwest. Might also be a good distraction for Sammy as well,” Dean started rambling, before he could stop it. “Shit, what am I saying? It’s going to be days before Sam can travel like that, and there’s really no reason for you to stick around that long just so we can—”

“I’d love to,” Castiel said, cutting in. “I think I’d enjoy it a lot more with you than with some omegas I don’t know.”

Dean licked his lips nervously, tasting the bacon and the coffee from before. “Yeah?”

“Yes. I enjoy spending time with you. You and Sam, of course. Especially now that Sam and I have overcome his hostile phase.”

“Fuck, how much of a bratty teen was he?”

“Admittedly very bratty, but he was ill, and I forgive him,” Castiel assured. “In a way, I can even appreciate it. He is very protective of you, you know? He wanted to make sure I was worthy of your friendship.”

Dean shoved more food in his mouth to prevent himself from bitching out Sam the way he wanted to.

He didn’t fucking need Sam to protect his omega honor from the big, bad alpha, dammit!

“Fortunately, we moved past that phase, and I can see why you love him so much. He’s a very intelligent and caring young man.”

Dean smiled softly, agreeing, “Yeah, he’s pretty great. I don’t know where he gets it from—”

“From you, of course,” Castiel pointed out. “Sam is who he is because he grew up with a loving guardian who made him thrive.”

“I don’t really feel like we’re thriving,” Dean muttered bitterly. “I can’t even afford this hospital visit.”

“Dean, you aren’t even legally eligible for a full-time paying job. It’s not your responsibility to pay for Sam’s expenses. What I meant is that you allow Sam to develop his interests. My family has more money than they know what to do with, but I would never consider them good guardians. I was always just an extension of themselves, but you let Sam be his own individual.”

Dean stared at Cas, frowning. “The more you talk about home, the less I like the idea of you going back.”

Castiel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I really don’t want to go back either. You have no idea how much I want to just ask my father to find out if there is a branch of work out here in Kansas for me.”

“Is there?”

“There might be, but I doubt I would be allowed out of my family’s sight,” Castiel grumbled. “After all, they need to mold me into the perfect alpha.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dean complained. “You survived eight years overseas, successfully led troops, and are a decorated war hero. How can you get any more ‘perfect alpha’ than that?”

“Because I do things in a way that my family would not do them.”

“Fuck them. You aren’t your family, you’re you, and I think you’re pretty awesome.”

Castiel smiled. “I know. Honestly, I’m starting to think that—”

The instrumental of the National Anthem began, cutting Castiel off. Cas glowered angrily, looking around for the hidden speaker before noticing it at the center of the ceiling.

 _ **“Hello and good morning to you all!”**_ the familiar announcer’s voice cheered. **_“Quick update, the national welcome home party has been cancelled because someone decided that they don’t want to come home to their family!”_**

Dean rolled his eyes at Cas, mouthing, “The horror.” Cas’s lip twitched, but his face remained blank. Probably a military training thing, to always take these bullshit announcements seriously.

_**“As for our lost prince, the royal family has a personal message for you: Please call home. You know the number, and we are waiting to hear from you. If you continue to be rebellious and avoid us, then there will be no other choice but for us to hunt you down. We already know where you are, but don’t make us waste valuable time, resources, and manpower to do so. The longer you wait, the greater the consequences.”** _

Castiel’s face grew paler, but still his facial expression didn’t change.

_**“Have a lovely day, all of you, and don’t forget, there’s nothing more important than your family and your country. As always, remember...”** _

“In the Legion we trust,” came the echoing chorus from everyone around them, before they returned to their meals.

Dean had personally lost his appetite, feeling too angry to eat right now. “Really? They interrupt us just to tell some snot-nosed brat that he needs to go back home to Mommy and Daddy? My brother is fucking getting surgery right now, and who knows how that announcement distracted the surgical team.”

“I believe emergency services have a filter to only hear important grade announcements. Minor ones like that one will be faxed over to them,” Castiel explained.

Well at least Dean didn’t have to worry about a doctor taking an extra chunk out of Sam, but it didn’t dampen Dean’s ire. “Still, we didn’t need to hear that piece of family drama.”

“Oh, I agree. Though… do you really feel like the ‘lost prince’ is being a brat?”

Dean shrugged and said, “I mean, it sounds like he’s too busy partying to even bother to call—” Dean cut himself off, remembering who he was talking to.

“Do you think that way about me?”

“Fuck no! Your family sounds like a mess, and you haven’t exactly been partying it up. Hell, even the night you were out drinking you spent most of it chatting with me.”

“I don’t know, being around you is much more enjoyable than partying.”

Dean chuckled, hoping Cas didn’t notice how much his words affected him. “Right, forgot who I was talking to.”

“Though you do make a good point; it doesn’t take much effort to make a phone call, and really, the longer I wait the harder it will get.”

Dean frowned, but nodded. “You can always just give them the ol’ ‘Hey, I’m alive, I’m fine, I’ll get back to you later’ trick if you really don’t want to talk to them.”

“I might just have to do that,” Castiel agreed before getting out of his seat. “I’ll just make the call outside and then come back in.”

“Good luck,” Dean said, not at all surprised that Cas wanted to talk to his family in private. Dean personally never called John in public, not after the time he called when John was having a drunken episode, and John had screamed so loud that everyone nearby could hear the whole exchange.

Dean debated about tossing his food, but decided that a couple of bites into his meal would be enough for him to get his appetite back. After all, he knew better than to waste food, especially food he was gifted.

Luckily, he discovered that Cas also bought him some hash browns along with his sandwich, and that was enough to make him ravenous again. He finished his breakfast just as soon as Castiel returned, looking irritated.

Dean didn’t press him for how the conversation went, knowing that if Cas wanted to talk about it, he would.

“I’ve managed to talk them into giving me until Sunday dinner to return home, but during that dinner I will be meeting my candidates. I have been informed that I need to take my duties more seriously, and that these omegas are part of said duties.”

Dean made a face. “Quite the romantics, your folks.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they believed romance was nothing more than a fairy tale. All that matters to them is that you marry someone who can aid in your goals, and make the family name stronger.”

“Did they at least tell you anything about these women?”

Castiel shook his head. “I will be debriefed once I get home. I assume that they hope this encourages me to get home sooner.”

“Will it?”

Castiel laughed and said, “I have every intention of showing up about 10 minutes before dinner starts, and not a second sooner.”

“Huh… So what do you plan on doing until Sunday?”

“That all depends on whether or not you are sick of my company yet,” Castiel said, shifting nervously.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon. But… my schedule is going to be a little funky with Sam.”

“I can watch him for you, if you need.”

“Probably not when Dad’s home, but… maybe you wouldn’t mind hanging around when I do my mechanic shift?”

“Of course. Sam’s shown a lot of interest in the environment, and I figured he wouldn’t be opposed to watching nature documentaries with me.”

“You giant nerds,” Dean teased, but he smiled fondly. “Now, let’s get a move on. Sam’s due to be finished surgery in twenty minutes, and I need him to wake up to the face of the fugliest bear I can find in the gift shop.”


	17. Hospitals aren't that Sexy

It turned out that the fancy alpha rooms included a shower, which was great because Dean desperately needed one, and was too nervous to go back home without Sam just to take one. He was also grateful that he always kept some spare soap and clothes with him in his trunk, so he had something clean to change into.

Castiel didn’t have as much luck, so he was forced to wear a pair of sweats and a T-shirt that he bought at the gift shop, both of which were proudly showing off the hospital’s logo.

Dean admittedly appreciated the form-fitting clothes, especially the way they hugged the swell of muscles that Dean didn’t know existed on Cas. Castiel’s baggy, professional clothes left too much to the imagination, making him look more like a beta, but now he clearly looked like the alpha he was.

Dean especially appreciated it whenever Castiel would shift, accidentally exposing the delicious tan skin hiding underneath.

“I don’t think I understand the premise of this show,” Castiel admitted. “Why did that man shoot the doctor for not giving his wife that transplant? Wouldn’t shooting the only doctor capable of doing the procedure be counterproductive to her own well being? Also, I don’t see how a face transplant would be a life saving operation.”

“Cas, my man, you need to learn not to question _Dr. Sexy_ , and just live for the drama.”

“Well, I’m very concerned about Dr. Smith, and I’m not sure if Dr. Wesson is qualified to do that type of surgery on him. Shouldn’t they have a real specialist available?”

“Come on, you just have to admire the poetics of Dr. Wesson having to perform surgery on his own step-brother. That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Too much pressure. You know, you aren’t allowed to operate on people you are related to.”

“Cas, if you keep talking, I’m going to stuff the bear in your mouth.”

Dean ended up buying a giant bear with extremely crooked eyes. One eye was on the same level as its nose! Because of the deformity, Dean was able to buy it for only a couple of credits.

“I think that poor thing has been through enough. But I acquiesce, and will keep quiet until the next commercial break.”

“I’ll accept your terms for now.” Dean smirked, forcing his eyes away from Cas’ thick biceps, and returning to the TV as soon as the commercials finished.

They had reached the end of the episode where Dr. Wesson, who ran out of surgical suture, had to rely on using dental floss to finish sewing up the wound. Castiel didn’t even have time to open his mouth when another voice beat him to it.

“ _Dr. Sexy_? That show makes a mockery out of the medical profession,” the sardonic voice of the elderly surgeon complained, followed by Tessa and another woman who were wheeling the still unconscious Sam into the room. “And no respectable hospital would ever run out of suture.”

“That is exactly the point I was going to bring up,” Castiel said with a nod.

“Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best episode to watch, but our options for TV were _Dr. Sexy_ , the news, preschool shows, or another kind of soap opera,” Dean defended.

“You don’t watch _Dr. Sexy_ for the medical portion,” Tessa explained, rehooking Sam up to an IV. “You watched it for the attractive betas, and for the ridiculous situations they get themselves into.”

“See, at least Tessa gets it,” Dean grumbled before getting out of his seat to check on Sam. “How did it go?”

“Everything went just fine, no complications at all,” the head surgeon explained, his ID labeling him as Dr. Grimm. “He will need to stay here for an additional night for observations, which is typical, although we might need to keep him longer if he presents. Sometimes the stress of surgery can activate the alpha gene in males, and we prefer him going through that transition under strict supervision. Just to make sure he doesn’t tear anything. After 24 hours, we can give him a medical grade suppressor to delay any potential presenting for at least another month.”

“Will there be any side effects to that?” Castiel asked.

“He might be a little sleepier than usual, but nothing major. If he does end up being a beta, then this will have no effect on him, but if he is a future alpha then it will just take him a little longer than usual to present. If there’s no obvious designation by the new year, we’ll have to schedule an appointment and have him tested here.”

“Here?” Dean asked, trying to hide his growing panic.

Dr. Grimm rubbed his head in annoyance. “Yes, here. He will be missing the national alpha test day, and the designation results must be finalized by the end of January, so that placement decisions can be made upon graduation. I know some families have their own ‘home recipes’ for inducing the First Rut, or Heat, but it’s much safer for us to do this in a professional setting, with medical personnel to keep an eye on him.”

That’s what had Dean worried.

“Can we schedule it for early January? Late January tends to be more hectic for us.”

“Alright, we’ll schedule him for the third. Sooner is better, admittedly.” Dr. Grimm nodded, before making a note on his clipboard. “Besides that, we also have some pain medication for Sam to take. Be very careful as this is an addictive substance, so we suggest you only give it to Sam when the pain level is above a seven. Below that, you can give him some over-the-counter pain relievers like Ibuprofen or Tylenol. He should be on bed rest for at least the first day home, and then you can slowly start increasing his activities.”

“I was thinking about taking him to the museum this weekend. Will that be okay?” Dean asked.

“As long as he can last a good eight hours sitting up by that point, then he should have no problems. Aside from that, we encourage that you wait until the following Monday before he can return to classes.”

Dean nodded. “How long until he wakes up?”

“He’s already cleared out the anesthesia, but he’ll keep going in and out of consciousness all day. That’s normal as anesthesia has a groggy effect on some people. He might also say some outlandish things during the moments he is conscious, so don’t be alarmed. Now, do you have any other questions for me?”

“There will also be additional information on how to best take care of Sam in his discharge papers, correct?” Castiel pressed.

Dr. Grimm nodded, much to Dean’s relief, saving him from asking anything repetitive. “Correct. There is also my number in case you have any additional concerns.”

“Good to know. Yeah, I guess I don’t really need to ask anything else. Except maybe for the billing,” Dean said.

“I don’t really deal with billing,” Dr. Grimm informed him.

“He doesn’t need to worry about it,” Castiel half-said, half-growled. “It’s already taken care of.”

Dean glared at Castiel, and Cas glared back. Even though Dean wanted to tell Cas that he was doing too much, he knew that he literally couldn’t afford to win that argument. Yeah, he felt guilty and humiliated that he couldn’t afford these bills, but he could swallow his pride for Sam’s health.

“Right, then I will be on my way.” Dr. Grimm nodded, leaving with the other nurse who helped wheel Sam in.

“Don’t be afraid to press the call button if you need help,” Tessa added, before also taking her leave.

Once the medical staff was gone, and the door was closed again, Dean knelt beside Sam. Sam’s eyes were opened, but they weren’t really seeing the world around him. Just glazed and staring at the ceiling.

Dean whistled low. “They sure did a number on you, Sammy. Hopefully they have you on the good shit.”

“He should be,” Castiel said, moving over next to Dean and handing him the ridiculous teddy bear. “I made sure that his health plan was nothing but the best grade.”

Dean took the bear and strategically placed it on Sam’s chest, so that its deformed face would be right in the center of Sam’s vision. “You didn’t need to go above and beyond like that.”

“I just wanted to know that Sam was getting the best treatment he could. It didn’t cost me anything that I wasn’t willing to pay.”

“I still don’t know how I’m going to repay you,” Dean admitted.

“I didn’t do this so you would feel indebted to me.”

“I know, but still… shit, Cas, I feel like I owe you a lot. Sammy’s my whole world.”

“You… could… date…” the groggy voice of Sam said, startling Dean.

“Sammy! You awake?”

“Tired…” Sam slurred. “But… date… Cas…”

Dean shot a terrified glance at the speaker in the back of the room. Castiel, however, chuckled.

“I did tell Dean that he owed me some burgers from the Roadhouse, and I’m holding him to it. Maybe even add a trip to a botanical garden as well.”

“Good… you both…. Happy.”

“Don’t worry, Sam. Being with both of you makes me very happy, and that is all the repayment I need,” Castiel said to Sam, but his eyes were looking at Dean.

“You’re… a good… alpha,” Sam yawned, before closing his eyes. Within moments he was snoring.

“Heh,” Dean laughed nervously, licking his lips. “And the kid claims that he doesn’t snore.”

“I’ll be sure to be your additional witness for the next time you bring it up. Now how about we go back to watching your misinformed medical drama? It looks like it will be a while before Sam wakes up again.”

“I thought you didn’t like the show?”

“I think its knowledge is flawed, but it’s clear that you enjoy it, and you’re the one that needs the distraction.”

“Then what is it that you need?” Dean challenged.

“To see you smile again,” Castiel said, his blue eyes staring too wide and too innocent at Dean. He looked at Dean as if he believed those words, like how nothing else was more important to him than knowing Dean was happy.

Dean gave Castiel a smile, but Castiel shook his head.

“I don’t want you to give me a smile to indulge me. I want you to smile because you feel happy and you don’t feel like you need to put on a show. One where you know that everything is going to be alright.”

“It’s going to take more than a silly TV show to do that,” Dean muttered bitterly.

“Yes, but it is a start. I just… I don’t want to go home before I see that real smile again.”

_Then just stay._

But Dean couldn’t utter those words. Not when people could be listening. Not when Castiel wasn’t even aware of what they could be.

Instead, Dean walked over to his chair, grabbed the remote, and unmuted the television. Castiel sat back down next to him, his knee nudging Dean’s, but neither made a move to add the distance between their legs.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. You’re… you’re a great friend.”

“I think you’re a great friend too,” Castiel said warmly. “Now, can you tell me why that nurse just hit that doctor with a dirty mop?”

“Huh? Oh, that’s Nurse Kindle, and she caught Dr. Shack, her fiance… well, shacking up with her best friend last episode.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“That’s not even half of it,” Dean said, before getting into the nitty gritty of the past four seasons of _Dr. Sexy_.

It took Dean another two episodes to realize that Cas’ plan was working. Despite all of the odds he was relaxed, and not feeling pessimistic about the future.


	18. Welcome Home

John hadn’t answered his phone, despite the numerous attempts Dean had made to call him. Dean could only assume that John was away on one of his random trips, and wouldn’t be back until later in the week. Which meant that Cas was safe to join them in dropping Sam back home the following morning.

The last thing any of them expected was a surprise party waiting for them inside their own home.

“Welcome home, Sam!” was the chorus greeting, and it took Dean a moment to recognize everyone who was there.

There was Ellen, setting out plates of delicious-smelling grilled chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, biscuits, and corn; Bobby was sitting at the table, drinking a can of soda instead of his usual drink of choice; and Jo was standing with a giant get well card while holding a bouquet of helium balloons.

“What’s all this?” Sam breathed out in shock.

“We were all worried about you, kiddo,” Ellen explained, gesturing for Sam to sit down and eat. “Both of you, really. We figured we wouldn’t be able to all show up at the hospital, so instead we planned a little get together.”

“Mom even let me use today as a sick day so I could be here with you guys,” Jo loudly proclaimed.

“I let you have a sick day so that you could help Sam get a leg up on all the classes he missed this week, not just so you two can mess around,” Ellen corrected.

Dean gave Ellen a questioning look, knowing that the woman was even more worried about Jo’s attendance than he was with Sam’s.

“What? I knew she wasn’t going to focus, and she had sick days that she hadn’t used yet,” Ellen replied to Dean’s unasked question. “Plus, figured Sam wouldn’t want to spend the whole time with a bunch of ol’ farts.”

“Speak for yerself, woman,” Bobby complained.

“Bobby, shouldn’t you be at the shop?”

“Closed it early today. The change of weather is getting to Rufus’ old bones, and without an extra set of hands around there was no point in staying open.”

Dean’s stomach tightened with guilt. “Bobby I’m so sor—”

“You better not be apologizing, boy. Taking care of yer family comes first. Heck, if I had my way then I wouldn’t want you anywhere near my shop until you know that Sam’s feeling okay. But I will be reducing your hours for ya.”

“Luckily, I can have my way at my bar,” Ellen chimed in. “Which is why I’m giving you the next couple of weekdays off. I don’t want another night of you checking your phone every second.”

“Guys, I can’t just—”

“Yes you can,” Bobby cut off. “Ellen, me, and Rufus scraped up enough money for you to take off for a couple of days and still get by. Not much, but it’s at least four days’ worth of pay.”

Dean felt like he got hit by a train of different emotions: relief, followed by guilt, gratitude, and trepidation. He shouldn’t have to rely on the kindness of others, especially not the charity of the people he worked for. People he knew were struggling to make ends meet themselves.

“I could donate to the pile as well,” Castiel broached, snapping Dean out of his thoughts.

“Who the hell even are you?” Bobby asked, eyeing the alpha symbol on Cas’ coat.

“A friend who’s already helped out way more than he should’ve,” Dean said, glowering at Castiel before turning to the rest of the group. “This is Cas. He’s the guy who was watching Sam when he was sick and helped pay for the bills.”

“Them hospital bills aren’t cheap,” Ellen said, eyeing Cas suspiciously. “I’m guessing your daddy got big money?”

“Yes, but so did my mother. I inherited a large fortune from her after she… passed away.” Castiel’s words were stiff, but his face showed the pain he did not project.

Ellen had a soft spot for children with a dead parent—it was one of the reasons why she took to Dean and Sam so fast—and Dean could tell that her suspicions were being put aside for now.

“Well, there’s no use standing and gawking all day. Go sit and grab yourselves a plate. I'm sure it’s better than the junk you’ve been eating at the hospital,” Ellen said, gesturing toward the chairs, but practically shoving Castiel at the table.

Cas might have been an unexpected guest, but he had an Ellen invitation, and no one turned her down.

“Luckily I planned for there to be a meal big enough to feed six people multiple servings, so there’s no shortage of food. Though I’d like to know where the hell John is,” Ellen said.

“You and me both, Ellen,” Dean complained through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

“Proves my theory,” Sam grumbled, stabbing at his chicken. “We literally could be dying, and John wouldn’t care.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I did tell him things were under control.”

“Yeah, but that could have meant anything. Heck, why wasn’t he questioning how you could afford anything? Because without Cas we would have been screwed!”

Dean wished that Sam didn’t know that.

Bobby grumbled, “Have no idea where that idjit's head is, besides up his own ass. One of these days he needs to wake up and realize that he doesn’t get to pick and choose his responsibilities. That Mary’s greatest legacy was the sons she left behind.”

Castiel studied Bobby carefully. “Were you friends with John for a while?”

Bobby nodded before taking a sip of soda. “Yeah. John’s from Lebanon. We were school pals together, back in the ol’ days. Bill too.”

“Bill was my husband,” Ellen explained. “It’s how I got tangled up with these knuckleheads in the first place.”

“You know you love us, Ellen.” Dean teased.

“I love you boys, and can tolerate Bobby,” Ellen joked, while Bobby rolled his eyes. “But your father is on thin ice. I swear if he doesn’t show up at some point today then I’m tempted to give him real food poisoning.”

Dean paused mid-bite and asked, “Are we talking bad clam chowder food poisoning, or hemlock in his soup?”

Ellen shrugged. “Whichever way makes you feel better.”

“Wow, Mom, you are dark,” Jo said with a laugh.

Dean wasn’t sure how much of it was a joke. Neither Sam nor Jo remembered this, but John had been the last person with Bill Harvelle before he died. They went on a fishing trip and their boat capsized. John had managed to swim back to shore, but Bill never resurfaced. Ellen had blamed John, since the man had been too cheap to invest in life jackets for their adventure, despite Bill not being a strong swimmer.

“Why sound so surprised? You gotta know that your mom is the scariest person in Kansas,” Dean remarked. “Though, speaking of Kansas, how many people from this state did you get to sign that get well card? It’s like half the size of you, kid!”

“It’s not all of Kansas, just a good chunk of our classmates wishing Sam the best. I even got the ‘cool’ kids to sign it,” Jo said.

Sam looked surprised. “Really?”

“Cool kids? Let me guess, the guys most likely to be alphas?” Dean ventured.

“Yep. Jake, Max, Andy, and Ansem,” Jo counted off. “Though I still don’t know why Max and Ansem are considered cool. They give me the creeps.”

Dean shrugged and said, “What can I say? People think that alphas are supposed to be hot shit.”

Castiel seemed surprised at that. “Alpha kids are the popular kids?”

“Really, Cas? You weren’t popular?” Dean found that hard to believe, considering how strong and attractive the alpha was.

“I believe I was called a dork. I admittedly didn’t have any friends in high school.”

“Dean didn’t have friends either,” Sam teased. “I’m actually more popular than he was.”

“Bitch, I was a bad boy loner. I didn’t _want_ friends,” Dean proclaimed. “And I was popular. I was just popular with the ladies.”

“I’m sure you were,” Jo joked, but Dean could see the slight red tinge to her cheeks, and her inability to look him in the eyes.

“If you’re so popular with the ladies, why are you still single?” Cas asked, genuinely interested.

His genuineness didn’t stop the rest of the table from laughing and jeering in good nature.

“Just doesn’t seem to be worth the hassle. The bachelor life seems a lot less tedious. Plus, less paperwork to fill out,” Dean said.

“Oh, there’s still going to be a lot of paperwork to fill out if you declare yourself a bachelor,” Bobby told him. “Lot of paperwork being a widower as well. No matter what you choose, you gotta deal with filing stuff through the government.”

“We keep trying to tell Dean to let us set him up with some betas we know,” Ellen told Castiel. “But he’s stubborn.”

Dean shrugged, taking a sip of his soda and wishing it was beer. “I just don’t think I can see myself with a beta. Or anyone really.”

Sam looked at Dean, then at Castiel, and quirked a brow. Dean wanted to kick him, but decided he couldn’t be mean to the kid who was still on loopy drugs.

“They would have to be someone special,” Castiel agreed.

Sam shot another look at Dean, but Dean shook his head.

He didn’t want to, but he would have to tell Sam exactly why things could never work out with Castiel. No matter how well they fit together.

“You know, instead of focusing on my lack of a love life, how about we focus on someone else?” Dean asked. “Hey, Bobby, did you get up the nerve to ask Ellen out yet?”

Bobby choked on his spoonful of corn, and Ellen looked like she wanted to beat Dean over the head with the salt shaker in her hand.

“Eww, Dean,” Jo complained, sticking her tongue out. “I don’t need to think about Bobby dating my mom. Especially not when I’m _eating_.”

“Just preparing you for the inevitable,” Dean smirked, before being pelted by Jo’s biscuit.

“Joanna Beth! This is a family meal, not a zoo!” Ellen complained.

They managed to get through the rest of the meal without a food fight, although Sam almost ended up with a face full of mashed potatoes as he started to fall asleep in his chair.

“Okay, guys, I think it’s time that I get this baby moose off to bed,” Dean said, getting out of his seat. “Don’t worry about cleaning up, I got that handled. Though when’s the next time you want me back at work?”

“For me? I want you to take off until the weekend, and only stay for the dinner rush. It’s pretty slow during the rest of the time, especially the weekdays,” Ellen said. “And I’m expecting you boys to spend the whole weekend over my place. You have no way around it.”

“I like that idea.” Sam said with a yawn.

Dean wasn’t as convinced. “Ellen are you sure?”

Ellen scowled. “Boy, if I have to repeat myself, I will be withholding the homemade pie I made you.”

Dean raised his hands in defeat. “Okay, leaving you alone. What about you, Bobby?”

“I wish I could give you more days off, but I sadly can’t because of them damn hours I gotta submit for your weekly progress,” Bobby said, looking at him guiltily. “But tell you what, you can come in whenever you want tomorrow, and take as many breaks as you need. Just as long as you are there for a full workday.”

Dean nodded his head. “That sounds fair.”

“You can have Sam stay in my guestroom while you work. You can even have his alpha babysitter around if you want as well,” Bobby said nonchalantly.

“If Dean and Sam don’t mind, then I would be happy to watch Sam tomorrow,” Castiel eagerly offered.

“I’m fine with that,” Sam agreed, a little too quickly.

Dean resisted the urge to rub his forehead. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll all be there tomorrow. Time depending on whenever Sam wakes up, and doesn’t feel like shit.”

“Sounds good,” Bobby agreed. “Now you boys take care.”

“And I expect you all at my house for Sunday dinner,” Ellen said, before turning to Cas. “That invitation is including you as well.”

Castiel smiled but then frowned as he realized the date. “As much as I appreciate the invitation, I’m afraid I won't be able to make it. I’m due back home on Sunday.”

“Next time, then,” Ellen said.

“As soon as I’m able to get back, I would love to join you for another home cooked meal. This was very enjoyable,” Castiel assured.

Dean was surprised that Cas seemed to believe there would be a next time.


	19. What We Have

Castiel’s nose buried deeper into the sweet scent of freshly cut apples; the delectable scent was so strong that it coated his mouth, leaving traces of the taste of apples on his tongue as if he had taken a giant bite out of the crisp fruit. Flavor danced across his taste buds, leaving behind the additional impression of honey. Not the overly sweet honey that one found in a bear-shaped container at the store, but the taste of real, fresh honey that could only be bought from an apiary. Something that had the perfect balance of sweetness, with a bit of a floral aftertaste, blending seamlessly with the taste of the apple.

The way the scent and taste enveloped Castiel—making him feel warm and cherished—was unlike any experience he’d ever had before. A feeling of being right where he was meant to be; a place he could call home, and know that he was always welcomed. Castiel wanted nothing more than to bottle up the scent so that he could carry it with him everywhere.

But to his displeasure and horror, the scent was growing fainter.

Growling, but refusing to open his eyes, Castiel tried to chase the scent, but it was never as strong as the spot he had accidentally discovered before.

He felt a whine build up in his throat, but it quickly died when he felt the ground underneath him shift, and his mind felt the same way when the sweet ambrosia scent came back in full force, stronger than before.

Castiel let his nose lead him, burying itself into the crook of something warm that reverberated with the feelings of _right_ , and _home,_ and _precious_.

It was perfect… until the scent started to sour. Sour like apples that had been left on the ground for too long in the heat and were starting to rot from the inside out. It burnt Castiel’s nose as well as the back of his throat.

This time he did whine.

“Sorry, Cas,” a hoarse but wonderful voice whispered near Castiel’s ear. “I got up to go to the bathroom, and forgot that you were in my bed for the night.”

The warm presence tried to leave, but despite the putrid scent, Castiel clung on. He knew that if he waited long enough then the ambrosia smell would return.

“I should have known you were a cuddler,” the gentle voice laughed, flooding Castiel with happiness as the sour stench slowly started to lift.

“Stay,” Castiel croaked to the presence, knowing he was too weak to let it go. “Stay with me.”

The other voice didn’t answer, but gently tried to tug away again. Castiel whined again until the tugging stopped, and the voice let out a giant sigh.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” the voice whispered in defeat.

Castiel growled lowly, knowing that he would rather lay down his life than let anything happen to this voice, this scent.

“Calm down, Alpha,” the voice chuckled. “I don’t need you waking up Sam. He needs his sleep. Hell, it’s late at night, we all do.”

Castiel had been called “Alpha” before, but never in the sincere tone that the voice used. It wasn’t just the title of his designation, but a term of endearment.

“Stay,” Castiel begged the voice again.

“Okay, okay. Just scootch over a bit. This bed really isn’t big enough for two men.”

Castiel blindly shifted, hoping he was following the directions well. He was rewarded a moment later when he felt a warm body lay down next to him. Castiel immediately wrapped his arms around the warmth, returning his nose to the spot he found before, and humming happily when the sweet scent returned.

“Smells good,” he happily muttered against skin.

“You smell good too, Alpha. Like… a day out on the lake, right after a thunderstorm. All clean, fresh air, with the slight burn of ozone. It’s nice. Real nice.”

Castiel, feeling relieved that his scent was also pleasing, slowly relinquished control, and let sleep pull him back under her spell; fully enveloped in the sweet smell and happiness.

The next time Castiel woke up, it was to a loud bang coming down the hall. Castiel startled awake, at a complete loss as to where he was, and why there was a warm weight pressed up against him.

Though the warm weight wasn’t there for long, as they quickly scrambled away with a curse.

“Fuck, that’s Dad. He’s going to flip his shit when he sees you here.”

It took Castiel a moment to place the voice as Dean, and another to remember that the two of them had stayed up late watching movies together before they both had started to nod off on the couch. When they woke up past the sanctioned curfew, Dean had offered Castiel some sleepwear as well as his own bed. Although he could have sworn that when they went to bed, Dean had made a sleep space for himself on the floor. Castiel had no recollection as to how Dean ended up sharing a bed with him.

Not that he minded.

However, he _did_ mind all of the banging that was going on outside, and the way the loud clangs were making Dean tense.

“How drunk is he this **—** ” Dean froze. “Those are two sets of footsteps I hear, and that’s not my dad’s scent.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what Dean meant, considering that betas' noses were incapable of smelling someone's scent from a room over, but now wasn’t the time for questions when there was a possible burglary happening.

“Stay here,” Castiel commanded, gently pressing Dean back down to his bed. “Keep Sam safe while I go survey the situation.”

A sour scent filled the room, making Castiel’s nose wrinkle in disgust.

“Fine,” Dean grunted. “But be careful.”

“I wasn’t made captain for convenience,” Castiel said, before silently treading towards the door, opening it, and closing it behind him.

Everything was still black around him, and he cursed his limited alpha vision. He tried to rely on his nose, but the scents were hard to place among the other scents of the house, informing Cas that the intruders were betas.

Fortunately for him, the burglars had the grace of a pair of blind elephants.

Castiel carefully crept over to where Dean kept his cleaning supplies and blindly reached for what felt like a mop. Securing his grip on his new weapon, he followed the sounds of his targets, raising the mop high and ready to strike.

However, one of the burglars caught sight of him and tried to grapple the mop out of his hands.

“What did you do with Castiel?” a familiar European accent growled.

“Balthazar?” Castiel gasped. He leaned closer, and was finally able to catch the faint smell of clean linens. “What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you, _obviously_ ,” Balthazar responded.

“Rescuing? From what?”

“More like from who,” the slow, sultry voice of Meg responded behind him. A quick sniff verified the faint lavender smell.

“What are you two talking about?”

“What are we talking about? Cassie, you’ve been missing for days,” Balthazar squawked. “The last time we saw you was after we all left the bar on Monday night.”

“I think it was technically Tuesday morning at that point.”

“Whatever, it’s technically Friday morning now. Where the hell have you been?”

“Oh, we technically know where you were for a bit of it,” Meg said. “So why the heck were you at the hospital?”

“Dean’s brother got seriously sick. He required surgery, and I paid for the expenses,” Castiel explained, carefully removing the mop from Balthazar's grip and bracing it against the wall.

“So they’re blackmailing you?” Meg demanded.

“No—”

“Do they know…” Balthazar leaned in closer as he whispered, “about your family’s _influence_?”

“No. They didn’t even want me to pay, but I didn’t give them any options. Have you looked at this place? Does this look like a respectable home for three men? They are practically living in squalor, and their father has still yet to show his face,” Castiel practically growled. “From what little I’ve heard, the patriarch of the home is an alcoholic beta who refuses to take care of his family.”

“I’m still missing the point of why this concerns you,” Balthazar mumbled.

“Because somebody has to take care of them!” Castiel did growl this time, then flinched when he was blinded by the light overhead. When his vision cleared, he saw a pissed off Dean carrying a baseball bat.

“Okay, I don’t know who you two bozos are, but not only are you breaking and entering, you are also breaking curfew. Either you get out of my house willingly, or I’m calling the police on your ass,” Dean snapped.

“Dean, it’s okay, I know them. They were just—”

“Oh I recognize them. Mr. Ol’ Fashioned and Whiskey Sour. A bartender doesn’t forget.” Dean clutched the baseball bat tighter. “Doesn’t make what they are doing any less illegal.”

“I’m sure the cops will understand that we were looking for a missing person,” Meg said coolly. “After all, it does sound strange that an alpha would just drop everything, and that much grand, on someone he just met.”

“Then he can leave me a fucking bill, and you can go ahead and take him with you,” Dean hissed.

Castiel felt like the air had been squeezed out of his lungs. It wasn’t just what Dean said, or how he said it, but it was also the way his face was filled with so much hurt and anger, the way he stood like a caged predator who was terrified for his life but ready to take someone else down with him.

Dean purposely used his words as a double-edged sword, not caring about the injury he’d sustain.

“Dean,” Castiel croaked.

“I heard what you said, _Castiel_ ,” Dean said coldly. Despite the fact that Dean called him by his name, Castiel felt like it was the worst insult Dean could have given him. “About how pathetic we are living in our _squalor_. But you know what, Cas? I don’t need your pity, and I definitely don’t need your charity.”

“The fact that you can’t pay hospital expenses says otherwise,” Balthazar unhelpfully added.

Castiel didn’t have the energy to reproach him. Instead, he was having difficulty breathing. Everything around him smelled and tasted of decay, and it felt like a frigid phantom hand was clutching tightly at his heart.

“Dean, you have to believe me, that’s not what I meant! It’s not that I… I didn’t mean…. Please,” Castiel begged, soon finding himself on his knees, looking up at Dean’s unwavering gaze. “Please, don’t kick me out of your life.”

Dean didn’t answer.

“It’s not pity I feel, it’s empathy. I hate that you have to go through so much strife, and that your father is not helping you with any of it. It’s not charity that I perform, but a desperate need to provide for you. I don’t know what it is, but ever since we met, I’ve felt this strong need to make sure that you are okay. That you _and_ Sam are okay. It downright terrifies me that I have to leave you both behind, and the fact that it frightens me to leave you two when we’ve only known each other for a handful of days is so alien to me. Alien because I haven’t spoken to my flesh and blood in eight years, and I haven’t really missed them once. Yet somehow the thought of not seeing _you_ everyday is what’s unbearable.”

Dean finally broke their eye contact to close his eyes. “Cas…”

“Please, can we just go back to the way it was before Balthazar and Meg showed up?” Back to the delicious scent, back to being wrapped in feelings of comfort and joy. “I’ll send them on their way, and things can go back to normal.”

“There’s no such thing as normal!” Dean bellowed, eyes flashing open to glare daggers at the world. “Especially not for us.”

“Then let’s make our own version of normal,” Castiel begged. “Because what we have? It’s good.”

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but looked over Castiel’s shoulder and paused.

“Don’t stop on our account,” Balthazar said behind Castiel. “This is getting juicy. Ow! Meg, that was my face you just elbowed.”

“Can’t help it if it’s the biggest target,” Meg responded. “Now let’s give them a bit of space.”

“Where? There’s barely enough room in here to pace in circles,” Balthazar complained.

“Then we’ll head back to the car,” Meg growled, followed by the sound of a small scuffle, and the front door opening and closing.

Dean kept his eyes trained on where Meg and Balthazar had been.

“Please talk to me,” Castiel begged.

“I don’t know what to say,” Dean admitted. “And whatever I do say is not going to matter in the end. Because like it or not, one day soon you are going to have to go home. You’ll have to face the future your family wants for you. You have a life waiting for you in the Capitol: a cushy job, a beautiful wife, and I’m sure all the kids you could ever want. So what’s even the point of doing this song and dance?”

“What if I like this song and dance?”

“All songs have to end, Cas. No matter how much you enjoy it. And you can put it on repeat as much as you like, but eventually it’s going to wear itself too thin and shred.”

“Even if the hard copy is ruined, it doesn’t mean that it is lost from memory where it can live on.” Castiel wasn’t really sure what he was even arguing at this point; the only thing he knew was that if he gave up then he would lose Dean.

Dean let out a weak laugh before putting down the bat, and joining him on the ground. “What are we even doing here, Cas?”

“Well I’m kneeling, and you’re sitting—”

“I mean in general. We’re breaking so many of our families’ rules by just being here right now, and it’s all going to amount to a big pile of nothing.”

Castiel reached out and grabbed Dean’s hands to hold into his own. He wasn’t sure what the purpose of this gesture was, but his instincts were screaming at him to do so. “This doesn’t feel like ‘nothing’ to me.”

Dean’s hazel-green eyes looked at him in a mixture of awe and fear as he asked, “Do you even know what any of this means?”

Castiel could lie, but the thought of lying to Dean hurt him. “No. I just know that this feels right.”

Dean closed his eyes again, but this time rested his head against Castiel’s hands. “I can’t tell you any answers, man. Hell, I’m just making things up as I go.”

“Then maybe that’s what I should do as well.”

“Kinda hard to do when you have a life—”

“That my father has concocted for me,” Castiel reminded. “A life that I don’t want to lead.”

“A life that you might be happy to have,” Dean argued.

“Or be miserable. I’ve had a small glimpse of a life I’d like to lead, and it… it entrances me. I _want_ to _stay_.”

Dean didn’t answer, but the way he clutched at Castiel’s hands felt like a response .

“Will you wait for me?” Castiel breathed those words out . Those were words that young alphas whispered to their sweethearts before going to war. They weren’t words for friends, but they felt right to utter to Dean.

Dean’s breath hitched. “I… Fuck, Cas, I don’t even know where Sam will be this time next year. And… And I go where he goes. At least, as long as I can follow.”

“Then I’ll follow you,” Castiel urged, making Dean snicker.

“No offense, dude, but that sounds creepy.”

“Would you be opposed to it?”

“...I gotta be loonier than you, because for some strange reason I’m not.”

Castiel pulled back so he could see more of Dean’s face, so he could smile shyly at Dean, and soon turned that smile into a wider grin when he saw Dean smiling back at him.

What he was even thinking of doing was ludicrous. He would be breaking years of tradition, and possibly throwing all of his hard-earned honor away for a single man’s friendship.

Yet for some reason he didn’t care. Not if it meant that he could see that smiling face every day, and continue to feel the warm glow from being by his side.

“Come on, you lug,” Dean said, slowly tapping him on the shoulder. “It’s way too late for me to be up, and I want to go back to bed.”

“What about Balthazar and Meg?”

“...What are the chances they can get back to their place without getting in trouble for breaking legal curfew?”

“Very slim.”

Dean sighed, “And for some reason you like them?”

“Yes. To their credit, they were genuinely concerned about my well being.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine, it looks like John isn’t showing up tonight anyway, so they can share the sleeper,” Dean grunted as he carefully got off of the floor and untangled his hands from Castiel’s. “I’ll go get the bed set up, and you can go get the stooges.”

Castiel nodded, casting a wistful glance at Dean before heading outside into the cold night air. As promised, both of his friends were sitting in a beaten-up car that was at least half the age of Dean’s Baby, but looked like an old junker.

“Ready to blow this pop stand?” Meg asked, rolling down the driver’s side window.

“Actually, we decided it was better that you don’t risk upsetting the authorities. You’ll sleep here tonight.”

“In the car?” Balthazar sounded scandalized.

“No, in the house. Their couch opens up into a mattress.”

“On second thought, I think I would rather take my chances with the car,” Balthazar grumbled.

“Ugh, and get your funk all over the interior? No thanks,” Meg complained.

“Darling, trust me, there’s little else that can be done to this poor car’s interior that would be worse than what it’s already been through.”

“Can we continue this discussion inside?” Castiel complained. “One of us is in only a thin T-shirt, and I’m still not used to a place that drops to freezing.”

“Alright, princey,” Meg jibbed. “Lead the way.”

To Castiel’s relief, Meg and Balthazar kept the banter to the low end, and settled in for the night with no further issues. Even better, Sam had not been disturbed by the earlier ruckus.

To his great disappointment, however, Dean was going back to his pile of blankets on the floor to sleep.

“You know,” Castiel said, “there was plenty of room when you were here earlier. It was also quite warm.”

Castiel couldn’t see Dean in the dark, but he thought he caught a glimpse of white teeth. “Really? Are you offering to scooch over?”

“Already ‘scooched’ over,” Castiel promised.

Dean didn’t remark over the fact that Castiel wrapped his arms around him as soon as he crawled into bed, just as Cas didn’t say anything when Dean flopped over Castiel’s chest to bury his face into the alpha’s neck.

Castiel fell asleep with the scent of honey apples, and the feeling that everything would be alright.


	20. A Brand New Day

Dean woke up with the horrible sense that his life was spiraling out of his control, and it all had to do with the alpha that he was sprawled on top of. They were so tangled up together that it took Dean a moment to account for where each one of his limbs were. His right hand was holding Cas’ hand while his left hand was woven into Cas’s dark locks. His left leg was wrapped around Cas’s leg, while his right was possessively flung over Cas’ hip.

His own nose was pressed against Castiel’s cheek, taking in a whiff of his natural smell. He first thought that Castiel smelt like rain, but it was more intricate than that. He smelt of the moment before rain, of the wild storm, and the sunshine that came afterwards. Closing his eyes, Dean could picture the beautiful lake where this wild weather cycle could all take place. Someplace tranquil yet massive, where the water stretched out for miles, seeming almost infinite.

Dean felt minuscule and unworthy in comparison.

But that wasn’t really the scary part. The scary part was the new apple and honey smell that intermingled with Castiel’s smell.

Dean didn’t normally smell like honey; he was only supposed to smell like apples. Scents only changed when someone formed a strong bond with a true mate. A scent that complemented the person’s original scent, but also incorporated the true mate’s own personality and interests.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the smell of honey was due to Castiel’s fascination with honeybees. As for Castiel’s new lake smell… Dean never really mentioned it to anyone, but one of his favorite activities was fishing, and his best dreams always took place around a lake.

This was bad. Crushing on Cas was one thing, thinking about them possibly being true mates another, but actually forming a scent bond was beyond suicidal.

Dean could only hope that the stronger smell would wash off with his shower. He might have to do something about Cas’ own smell as well, but hoped that since all they did last night was cuddle that the scent wouldn’t be permanent.

Though trying to get up so he could eventually reach the shower was proving difficult, as Castiel decided to become a barnacle, and gripped him like it was his sole mission in life. Dean only managed to escape by wedging his pillow between Castiel’s arms so he could cling to that instead. Castiel immediately buried his nose into the pillow, grumbled when he realized it didn’t have the same strong scent, but eventually drifted further to sleep.

Dean spared himself a couple of seconds to watch the slumbering alpha before checking on Sam to make sure the kid was still alright, and then slowly creeped out of the bedroom and into the basement.

It felt weird exercising when they had so many guests in the house, but because of the hospital trip his workout regime had been greatly affected. He could already feel spots where the hard muscle was being smoothed away in favor of softer flesh. His omega body quickly broke down muscle, doing its best to try to make itself more habitable for the womb he didn’t even want, which is why he had to always work out. In a way, he was at war with his body, fighting for the right to keep his muscles and everything else that made him look more masculine.

Dean already had to deal with plump lips, full lashes, and an angular face that seemed more feminine. He couldn’t let any other attention be brought to his appearance.

Since he neglected so many days, he pushed himself into doing twice his usual reps, and ran an extra two miles on the treadmill. He hated himself after the workout, but it was worth it for his safety.

Luckily, all the inhabitants of the house were still sleeping when he came upstairs, and Dean was able to take the long shower he deserved. He didn’t leave the harsh spray until his skin was scrubbed red, and not a trace of either his or Cas’ scent remained.

Dean did his best to ignore the disappointment he felt.

Instead of focusing on that, he redirected his attention onto what to feed all of his guests. A quick survey in the fridge revealed two eggs, a milk carton that was a week past its expiration date, and a bunch of potatoes that were starting to grow roots. It made Dean’s blood boil to know that even though John couldn’t make the effort to go grocery shopping, or leave behind grocery money, the man took the liberty of pigging out on food that Dean was trying to stretch for the week.

Thank God for Aunt Jemima and her buttermilk complete pancake mix. All he needed was a couple of cups of the mix and a couple of cups of tap water, and he would have enough pancakes to feed an army.

Once a younger Sammy had thought it was awesome that they had pancakes for so many of their meals. That was until he realized that, like dry cereal, Spaghetti-Os, and other canned stuff, it was a nonperishable item that didn’t require much for them to cook. They stopped being a fun treat and became just another necessity after that.

Didn’t mean that Dean didn’t learn a thing or two to prevent them from being boring.

While he waited for a pot of coffee to brew, Dean got out a mixing bowl to combine the pancake mix with some vanilla extract and cinnamon sugar to make snickerdoodle pancakes. He had just finished whisking the batter together when he caught the delicious smell of his mate.

No, not mate.

Even if Castiel was technically one of his true mates, it didn’t mean anything. They were just compatible biologically and psychologically, and without a true mating, the two would eventually just move on.

Hell, there was a good chance that one of Cas’ omega candidates was also a true mate. Dean had heard rumors that the Matchmakers would compare true scents to make sure they had scent compatibility before setting potential pairs up.

There was no point in thinking about Cas as his when they could never be together.

Dean was so lost in his bitter musings that he didn’t pay attention to where Castiel was until he felt a cold nose press to the junction of his neck. “What the hell, man?”

“You smell…” Castiel trailed off, before removing his nose from Dean. “Exactly the same as usual. I apologize, for some reason I was expecting you to smell different.”

Dean was very grateful that Castiel probably couldn’t smell himself, and that the other inhabitants all lacked the nose to pick up the fact that Cas had a new scent.

Castiel was still standing close enough that Dean could smell the traces of their intermingling scents. It was captivating, and it took all of his self-restraint not to scent him. Especially since scenting was not beta behavior.

“Probably just confused because I don’t smell like the hospital anymore,” Dean lied, stepping away from Cas so that he could pour the batter into a frying pan. “Anyway, breakfast will be done in ten minutes or so. Feel free to pull up a chair and relax.”

“Do I have to?” Cas asked, once again stepping into Dean’s personal space. “I’d rather watch you.”

Dean could feel goosebumps start to rise from how close Castiel was, and he gripped the handle of the frying pan to prevent himself from trying to grab Cas. “I’m just making pancakes. I’m literally just waiting for them to brown, flip, and then repeat. It’s really nothing special.”

“Sometimes it’s relaxing to just watch the mundane,” Castiel said, before resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean clenched the handle of the pan tighter and asked, “Anyone ever teach you about personal space before?”

“Yes, but something tells me you’re going to lecture me anyway.”

“I’ll spare you the lecture if you tell me why you like being in my personal bubble so much this morning.”

“I’m not sure; it just feels right,” Castiel admitted.

Dean wondered if Castiel knew that even this innocent interaction could get them in serious trouble if they were caught.

“You… you know that most people wouldn’t find this...well, right? Us being this close.”

“Why?” Castiel questioned, and Dean hated how his breath caressed Dean’s cheek with that word.

“I don’t know. I guess they think it’s weird for two guys to be… in our position. Unnatural, even.”

“Funny, when this feels like the most natural thing in the world to me. However, if it makes you uncomfortable, I will respect your boundaries.” Castiel started pulling away, much to Dean’s dismay.

“It’s not bothering me! Umm, and you know, it is a pretty good spot to see me do this,” Dean explained, quickly flipping the pancake in the air and catching it in the pan. “Pretty awesome, right?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, returning to his position, only this time encircling his arms around Dean’s waist. “This is the better view.”

Dean hated how much he enjoyed having Cas wrapped around him, or the way that he instinctively leaned back against Cas’ body.

He should put an end to this, before things got too far. Or at least before Castiel’s supposed friends caught them. He opened his mouth to tell Cas that he should let go.

“Hey, I got to put this on a plate and put the next set on. Mind if we move?” was what came out instead.

“Of course.”

Which is how Dean spent the rest of the time cooking with the alpha molded into his backside. Castiel only unstuck himself when he heard Meg stumble in.

“I smell coffee,” she growled, eyes still mostly closed.

“You’re a beta,” Castiel pointed out.

“No shit, Sherlock. Doesn’t mean I’m nose blind, I just can’t smell every little nuance you can.”

“It takes time and training to distinguish each of those nuances,” Castiel admitted. “And it can be tricked. I keep picking up phantom smells that I don’t think are there.”

Dean tensed but hid it by flipping another pancake.

“Phantom smells? What are you smelling? Battleground stuff?” Meg asked, concerned.

“The first day I was, but… I could have sworn earlier today that I was smelling ambrosia.”

Dean almost missed the plate as he slid the most recent pancake onto the pile.

“Ambrosia? What the heck is that supposed to smell like?” Meg teased.

“Divine,” Castiel breathed out wistfully. “I mean, ambrosia in the Greek myths was known as the nectar of the gods. Closest comparison would be a delicious-smelling and -tasting honey. Honey with a fruity aroma.”

Dean yelped as he accidentally burned his hand on the side of the frying pan.

“Dean?” Castiel turned to him with concern, quickly taking Dean's injured hand to examine it.

“I’m fine, Cas. I just got too close to the pan,” Dean said, his cheeks burning worse than his hand. “But that was the last of the pancakes. You can go wake up your snooty friend, and I’ll go wake up Sam.”

Dean gently tugged out of Cas’ grip to make his tactful retreat to the bedroom.

Fuck, he really needed to keep his head on straight.

Though not thinking straight was really the problem in the first place.

“Sammy,” Dean croaked, not wanting to face his own thoughts. “Come on, kiddo. I made snickerdoodle pancakes, and I have no idea how much food our guests are going to eat.”

“Guests?” Sam asked with a yawn. “Since when did Cas count as a plural guest?”

“Shit, forgot you were asleep during that. Yeah, so Cas’ two beta friends stopped by looking for him, and since curfew happened they got stuck here,” Dean explained, giving him the abridged version.

“Is John…?”

“Yeah, John’s still MIA. And if we’re lucky, he’ll stay that way until after everyone leaves.”

Dean should have known better than to mention luck.


	21. All I Want

“These pancakes are delicious, Dean,” Castiel said, smiling wide. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“It’s really nothing. Hell, it’s just the instant crap with some cinnamon sugar and vanilla,” Dean flippantly replied, doing his best to lean away from Castiel.

The scent of happy alpha was wafting through Dean’s nostrils and it was taking all of his self control not to climb into Castiel’s lap and get a closer whiff. To not rub his scent glands over Cas’ and retouch the apple and honey smell that was slowly fading off of him.

“Cassie, I think your days at war have ruined your taste buds,” Balthazar sighed, taking a dainty bite of his own pancake. “This is saturated with the taste of cheap _cardboard_. Real homemade pancakes are much more decadent.”

“You know, you don’t have to eat my food, dick,” Dean grumbled before taking a giant bite of his own pancake.

“So you’d rather I starve?”

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t be shedding any tears for you if you starved to _death_.”

“Cassie, your little boy toy is being mean to me!” Balthazar complained.

Dean was ready to lunge out of his seat to punch the prick in the face, but Castiel’s angry growl and suddenly souring smell froze him in place. The alpha was livid enough that Dean could feel the waves of anger coming off of him.

“Balthazar, you will show Dean some respect! He is my friend and your behavior towards him has been absolutely abhorrent, especially when he has gone out of his way to be a good host. He didn’t need to invite you to stay under his roof, or to feed you, and I am done with watching you treat him like some kind of servant.”

Balthazar looked down at his plate, seeming completely chastised, but then narrowed his eyes in thought. “No.”

“What?” Castiel barked.

“No, I’m not going to fawn all over him like you do. I stand by what I said before, you just met this man and you’re already bending over backwards to do whatever you can to please him. Something here doesn’t make sense and I’m not going to sit here and pretend that it does!”

Before Castiel could yell at him again, Dean stepped in. “Sounds good to me. You don’t like me? Fine. Honestly, I don’t like you either.”

Balthazar raised his brow, clearly not expecting that. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. See, I know what you think of me. Just some brokeass bartender with no real future or anything, who’s just using Cas for his dead mom’s money. But you know what I think of _you_?”

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Meg chuckled.

“I think you’re an egotistical foreigner who had no future on your own continent, so you had to fight your way to ours, and that you’re only friends with Cas so you can continue to live a high life and party it up.”

Balthazar glowered at him. “I haven’t racked up a bill like you have!”

“For a medical emergency that I didn’t even ask him to help me with! Not like the almost $200 credit you had Cas spend on your drinks.”

“That’s like 10% compared to—”

“Balthazar, _enough_ ,” Castiel snapped, angrily standing up from his seat. The burning smell of charred earth and the stench of polluted water rolled off Castiel and clogged Dean’s nose, almost making him gag. “Do you take me as some sort of idiot? Or a damsel in need of protection?”

“No, but—”

“Then why do you feel the need to meddle in my affairs? I already told you that I donated the money to Dean and his family, and yet you continue to treat me like some gullible idiot who was just swindled out of his life savings! If I didn’t think I could handle the expenses, then I wouldn’t have offered!”

Castiel sat back now, but his scent revealed he was no calmer. “I think you should leave. Both of you.”

“Cassie,” Balthazar whined, at the same time as Meg called out, “Clarence.”

“Oh come on, I was actually enjoying my meal,” Meg complained.

“Yes, well, Balthazar has clearly overstayed his welcome, and curfew is lifted so there’s no reason that you need to stay any longer.”

“What am I? Balthazar’s keeper? Why am I being punished because of him?”

“Because you drove him here in the first place,” Castiel hissed.

“Because we were _both_ worried about you,” Meg argued. “Look, I can admit that I might have misjudged Pretty Boy over there, but you can’t tell me that you wouldn’t have been as concerned if our situations had been reversed. Would you really just let me spend all of my free time and a good chunk of my money on a beta I’ve only known for a couple of days? It sounds shady as hell!”

“Oh, Cas and Dean aren’t just strangers,” Sam said, his eyes still partially glazed from sleep. “They’re tru—”

“Best friends,” Dean quickly cut over Sam, and then blushed at how loud he was. “I… ugh, I just mean that it doesn’t really feel like we’ve only known each other for a couple of days. It feels much longer.”

“Much, _much_ longer,” Castiel agreed, turning towards Dean, and for a moment Dean got lost in those blue eyes. Even Castiel’s scent was turning more pleasant. “And I agree, I feel like we’re best friends as well.”

“A match made in heaven,” Sam sighed before taking a bite out of a pancake.

“Okay, that’s it, Sammy! No more rom-coms when you are doped up on meds! You’re turning everything into a chick-flick moment!” Dean said.

“Regardless of your concerns,” Castiel continued, returning to his conversation with his friends, “your execution in handling the matter was done in poor taste. There is a child, for goodness sake, who had surgery a couple of days ago, and you’re starting fights with his guardian? So before you have the opportunity to stress him out more, I want you out of this house.”

“Fine,” Meg grumbled, quickly shoveling the remainder of her pancakes into her mouth and grabbing the coffee cup. “But the coffee is coming with me.”

“You know what, keep the mug,” Dean said, honestly preferring having to buy a new coffee mug over seeing her again.

“Thanks,” Meg said, giving him a smile that was more devious than grateful. “You’re a regular Prince Charming, huh?”

“Meg, you have your coffee, now go,” Castiel ordered.

“Still not fair that Balthazar messed up and now I have to be punished too,” she grumbled, before kicking at Balthazar’s seat until he moved.

Balthazar’s face was stony and serious for once, and he gave Castiel a harsh look. “I’m not going to apologize for pointing out how crazy all of this is, and for worrying about you.”

Castiel’s shoulders slumped a bit, but his own hard stare didn’t waver. “I understand, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be excusing your behavior either. I’m an adult, Balthazar. More than that, I’m an alpha and your commanding officer. You should at least trust that I’ll make the right judgement call.”

“We’ll see if you feel the same way in the future,” Balthazar coolly remarked, before storming outside without any farewells.

Meg let out a growl of frustration and muttered darkly about the petulant beta before turning back towards Castiel and Dean. “Anyway, thanks for the bed and breakfast. And Clarence?”

Castiel squinted at her and waited for her to continue.

“Just do me a favor and make sure to grab dinner and drinks with me before you go home? Something that’s just the two of us?”

Castiel seemed taken aback, but his eyes softened at her request. “Of course.”

The possessive part of Dean wanted to rub his scent against Castiel so the beta would know that Castiel was off limits, but Dean knew that would be weird and instead grabbed another helping of pancakes. At least this way his mouth would be too busy chewing to say anything embarrassing.

“See you later, Clarence. You too, Prince Charming.” Meg gave them a halfhearted salute, before dragging Balthazar away. But not far enough away that they couldn’t still hear Balthazar’s angry mutterings.

“Seriously, Meg, are we really going to just let him stay in there and get manipulated by that wazzock?”

Meg slammed the door shut before they could hear her reply.

Now, Dean wasn’t sure what a wazzock was, but he didn’t need a Sammy-level IQ to know it was a nasty insult.

Another clue that the commentary was an insult was Castiel’s reaction to it, as he was so enraged that he snapped his fork in half.

“Dude,” Dean complained, his mouth still full of pancakes. “Mind the silverware!”

“My apologies,” Castiel said, lowering the splintered remains. “I… wasn’t expecting that.”

“What? Never had an alpha rage moment?”

“Not over something so trivial,” Castiel said, looking forlornly at the fork. “Outside of war, I’ve only gone into alpha rage twice. The first during the Alpha Test, and the last time was right after… well, right after my mother killed herself.”

Dean swallowed loudly, not really sure how to proceed without seeming insensitive or awkward.

“Your mom killed herself?” Sam gasped, much to Dean’s embarrassment.

At least the kid had the excuse of being hyped up on painkillers.

“Cas, you don’t need to answer. He probably won’t even remember anyway.”

“It’s alright. It’s been eight years, so the wound isn’t fresh.” Castiel turned to Sam, watching him carefully. “My mother wasn’t mentally well, but held herself together until she thought we were old enough to no longer need her. She… she died while I was still recovering from my first rut, and I admittedly didn’t take the news well.”

“What did you do?” Sam asked, and honestly, Dean was glad he asked because he was curious as well.

Castiel flinched and looked guilty. “A lot of property damage. I had to be moved out of my previous suite into a different one because the whole place needed to be reconstructed.”

“Wait, suite? And you just moved into another one?” Dean shook his head in shock. “I didn’t realize your rooms were actually suites.”

“All to display the family’s wealth. I can’t even blame my father’s vanity on it, as it’s more accurately my great-grandfather’s.”

“Did you get in trouble for destroying the room?” Sam asked.

Castiel shook his head. “No. In fact, my father praised me for my alpha strength. Apparently he too had his doubts on whether or not I was a ‘real alpha’.”

“What? Why?” Dean sputtered.

“Because I didn’t display any of the traditional hallmarks of being an alpha. Father was concerned that I got a false positive on the test—”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Is that possible?”

“I’ve heard rumors, but I’m honestly not sure if there’s any credence to them. Which honestly makes it even more insulting that anyone would think that I still wasn’t an alpha.”

“I mean, at first glance you _do_ look a bit like a beta,” Dean admitted, feeling bad when Castiel shot him a look of betrayal. “But the more you look, the more alpha you can see.”

“Really?” Castiel said, his brow raising in a way that shouldn’t have looked tantalizing but did. “How so?”

Dean shrugged, shoving more pancakes into his mouth before he spoke. “It’s the way you carry yourself, and the look in your eyes. You look like you already know five different ways to kill a person using only your pinky.”

“That’s a complete exaggeration.” Castiel rolled his eyes, but there was a smirk on his face. “Though I do know multiple ways to incapacitate a person in a matter of seconds.”

“See, and you have that alpha cockiness going too.”

“That can’t be a real thing.”

“Oh it’s real for sure,” Dean chuckled. “But in all seriousness, it’s also the protective attitude you have. I don’t know, it just makes it feel like you have everything under control and that there’s not much to worry about when you are around.”

Castiel smiled one of those soft and vulnerable smiles that Dean wished were only for him. “I’m not sure if that’s an alpha thing. I’ve felt a similar feeling with you.”

“Barf,” Sam complained. “At least wait until I’m back in bed before you both go all mushy-eyed.”

“Bed? You just got up!” Dean complained, but quickly took account of Sam’s appearance.

Sam was still pale, with deep shadows under his eyes, and looked like he was one more bite of pancake away from entering a food coma.

“Yeah, but I’m still sleepy.”

Dean looked at the clock, noting that it was already ten in the morning. “Maybe I should just call out again. I don’t like the fact that you still look and feel this shitty.”

“Dean, don’t!” Sam shouted, both he and Castiel looking disturbed at the very suggestion.

“Dean, you can’t miss any more hours of your placement,” Castiel said. His tone was serious, and he looked like he was calculating every word he was saying. “Not without running the risk of losing that placement and being demoted to manual labor.”

“You mean like my dad?” Dean challenged, feeling defensive of the man despite everything.

“No, worse than your dad,” Castiel threatened. “Your father has the position he does because he was out of placements, and because he served his country. As a placement failure, you wouldn’t have the same courtesy. You know where they would place you? In the coal mines if you’re lucky, cleaning up the waste lands if you are not.”

Dean shuddered, knowing that those were the areas where hazardous wastes were thrown away, but still needed to be sorted properly so they didn’t poison the land. Dean heard that most people working those jobs were lucky to make it past forty.

“Fine, but I can’t leave Sammy alone—”

“Dean, after everything we’ve been through, do you really expect me to just leave Sam by himself?” Castiel growled, making the hair at the back of Dean’s neck stand on end. Castiel’s alpha rage was still too close to the surface, and Dean’s instincts were warning him to stand down.

Stand down or offer Cas his neck, knowing that his true scent would be able to calm him.

Dean was never one to listen to his instincts.

“Cas, I’m not just going to assume that I can keep on using you—”

“You are not using me when I am freely offering myself to you!”

Dean froze, not knowing how to reply to that comment, except for with a nervous lick of his lips. It felt like Dean’s whole brain was malfunctioning as his libido heard one thing, while the logical and cynical side heard another.

“Dean,” Cas sighed, the last of his residual anger fading, but the dirty water smell still clinging to him. “I don’t do these things because I feel like you give me no other options, or because I plan for you to return the favor. I do it because it makes me happy, and I genuinely love spending time with your brother.”

“I like spending time with you too, Cas,” Sam said, smiling as he got up to put his empty plate in the sink. “And I completely understand why you like Dean more.”

Dean reminded himself that he couldn’t punt the kid who just had an organ removed. “What are you doing up anyway?”

“I’m going back to my room so I can sleep,” Sam said, in a tone like Dean was an idiot for not knowing the obvious. “Plus, I liked those pancakes, and I don’t want to risk them coming back up if I keep hearing you two flirt.”

“Sam!” Dean hissed, gesturing with his eyes to where the speaker was.

Sam’s eyes widened, realizing how dangerous his teasing might have been. “I mean… umm…”

Dean shook his head, knowing that the damage was already done. He just had to hope no one was taking them too seriously. “Just go back to bed, Sam.”

Sam nodded, mouthing the word _sorry_ before scampering off.

Castiel looked confused by the exchange, but didn’t question it.

“Of course I got stuck with all the clean up,” Dean bemoaned, before gathering the abandoned dishware to dump in the sink. “Last time I’m hosting a big breakfast.”

“Here.” Cas gently guided Dean away from the sink so he could slip between him and the counter. “You made breakfast, let me clean up.”

Dean was going to say that Cas didn’t have to, but after their previous argument he decided against it. “Fine, but I’ll dry and put things away. Makes the job go by faster anyway, and you don’t know where things go.”

“Alright. I can’t say that I wouldn’t enjoy the company.” Castiel smiled, and the smell of fresh rain returned.

“Of course you can’t, I’m a joy to be around.” Dean grabbed the nearby towel and playfully swatted it at the alpha’s backside.

Castiel grumbled and bumped Dean out of his personal bubble, but his happy scent increased.

Dean smiled and let himself get lost in the scent and idle chatter of Castiel. It was only after the last dish was put away that Dean dared to talk about Sammy’s care. “Look, Cas, I really appreciate you taking care of Sam and all, but there’s one big problem. You can’t stay here.”

Castiel’s eyes looked heartbroken, and Dean had to scramble to explain himself.

“It’s not that I don’t want you here, it’s just… Fuck, I just have no idea when John is coming back and what condition he might be in when he does. He might start a fight.”

“You don’t think I can hold my own against him?” Castiel growled, and the ozone smell burnt the back of Dean’s nose.

“Opposite. I know you can handle him, but I don’t trust either one of you to stop. Dad’s pigheaded and he could make even a nun curse, and you… you care too much. Not to mention the alpha rage in you is too close to the surface. And then what’s going to happen when people see an alpha like you walking around with a black eye, or broken nose? Do you know what the penalty is for a beta attacking an alpha unprovoked?”

Castiel looked down at the wet patch on his borrowed T-shirt. “I imagine some jail time.”

“Exactly. Jail time, and he could lose custody of Sam if he has one more strike against his record.”

Castiel recoiled. “Couldn’t you become his guardian?”

“You think I wouldn’t do that already if I could? I don’t count as a true citizen until after placements are over,” Dean reminded Cas. “Not to mention all of the court dates and legal shit. It could take thousands of credits just to get to that point.”

“I wouldn’t have let him hit me anyway,” Castiel muttered, brows furrowing as he realized something. “How did you know that my alpha rage is still close to the surface?”

_Shit._

Dean’s heart pounded and he prayed that he didn’t have a scent spike. Betas couldn’t smell alpha rage or any of the emotions that were currently rolling off of Cas right now.

Emotions that Dean could only tell were negative, but he wished if he knew if they were feelings of confusion, betrayal, anger, or even sadness. The only thing he knew was that it smelt like a dangerous storm brewing off of the horizon.

“I can see it on your face,” Dean lied, and hoped that the stench of rotted fruit was only his imagination.

“Dean—” Castiel started, and Dean instinctively cringed, knowing the fallout that was moments from occurring.

Instead, he felt a gentle pressure around his bicep, and saw concerned, blue eyes staring back at him.

“Dean? You know that...that you can trust me. That I won’t judge you.”

“Yeah, I-I know,” Dean said. He swallowed nervously and forced his nerves back under the cool facade he wore. “Like I said, you’re an open book.”

Castiel opened his mouth to say more, but paused and looked towards the back of the house where the speaker was. His eyes shifted between Dean and the speaker, as if questioning if whatever Dean was hiding was something he wanted to make sure no one could overhear.

Dean gave a slight nod, hoping that was the correct answer.

“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” Castiel said, playing along. “Now, mind telling me how I’m going to keep an eye on Sam without being at your house? I hope you don’t intend for me to be watching him through your bedroom window.”

Dean made a face. “Man, that’s creepy on so many levels. And I’m still trying to figure it out.”

“Why can’t you bring him to work?”

“Because if I want to be there and actually help the geezers out before closing time, then I really need to be there in the next half hour. Sam needs at least another couple of hours of sleep, and if I’m taking the only car—”

“Then we can take a taxicab over to your workplace once Sam is feeling well rested, and Sam can go home with you.”

“What about you?”

“I can take a taxi back to my hotel.” Castiel smiled sweetly. “I don’t want Sam to be stuck in the car any longer than he needs to be.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re way too nice?”

“I’ve heard it once or twice before, but to be honest, I’m a pretty selfish man.”

“Really? Not from where I’m standing.”

“Oh, but I am. If you think about it, I’m willing to go above and beyond because in the end it benefits me. Not to mention the more I help you out, the more time I get to spend with you.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Because hanging out with you is such a chore.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it is. As I said, I wasn’t exactly popular growing up, and even now. Perhaps there’s a selfish part of me that hopes that if I keep proving my worth to you, then you are unlikely to revoke this friendship.”

“So, what,” Dean asked, stomach twisting, “you want to keep me indebted to you?”

“No, I don’t want you to feel like you _have_ to be my friend.” Castiel looked ill at the thought. “Trust me, my parents paid for enough fake friends to last a lifetime. I simply want to be of use to you.”

“And I don’t need you spending your money or all your free time to prove that. I… Just keep being you, Cas. That’s all I really want.”

“That’s all I want from you as well, Dean. For you to be comfortable enough to be your true self.”


	22. A Little Too Close

“How’s it going with that Taurus?” Bobby called out. “Is that alternator dealt with yet?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Dean hollered from under the hood of said Taurus. “I’ll have it done before you can say flapjacks.”

“Flap—” Before Bobby could finish his sentence, Dean loudly slammed the hood down, and smirked smugly.

“I told ya.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the grumpy voice of Rufus complained across from him, the man slowly wiping off oil from his hands with a rag. “I used to get alternators fixed at half that speed when I still had young hands.”

“You’re full of shit and you know it, Rufus.” Dean laughed, catching the rag that Rufus pelted at his head. “Thanks, I needed that.”

“One of these days I’m going to whip your young ass,” Rufus grumbled.

“I’m pretty sure that falls under workplace harassment,” Dean pointed out. “But it’s okay. I know that you love me.”

“What I personally love is having paying customers,” Bobby grumbled. “You finish cleaning that car up, and then bring it up front. Then go be useful and order us a damn pizza for lunch.”

“Because pizzas are more useful than fixing cars?” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Trust me, you haven’t seen Rufus when he gets hangry. Keeping him fed and happy is an important part of the job.”

“I’d be insulted, Bobby, if you weren’t right,” Rufus agreed. “Though don’t order from that Papa John’s pizza place again. I don’t care if we have coupons from there, no five-dollar pizzas are worth that amount of heartburn.”

“You know, I could just order you a salad instead,” Dean teased.

“Do I look like your floppy-haired brother? Nobody sane orders a salad from a pizza place!”

Usually Dean would try to protect Sammy’s honor, but he agreed with Rufus.

“Alright, how about you stop yammering so I can finish up and then we can get lunch?”

Rufus stole his rag back, but went back to the Accord he was working on before.

Bobby still lingered, watching Dean as he cleaned up. “That alpha of yours showed up with your brother an hour ago.”

Dean felt a rush of pleasure and terror at Cas being called _his_ alpha. “Yeah? What are those nerds up to?”

“Looked like they were watching some documentary on Yellowstone or something.”

Dean smiled fondly as he scrubbed off some of the grease hand prints he’d left behind. “Like I said, a bunch of nerds.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised Sam’s taken to him so quickly.”

Dean shrugged. “He’s a pretty awesome guy once you get past his lack of social skills.”

“Funny, I’d describe you the same way.”

Dean chuckled. “Come on, Bobby. What’s the real reason you’re hovering?”

Bobby shrugged. “Just weird, is all. You boys don’t really get close to anybody. Heck, Ellen and I have known you both for years, and you still have your guard up around us.”

Dean stiffened.

“Look, I ain’t judging, but it’s just a little baffling. I don’t know if it’s an alpha thing, or the fact that he’s closer to your age, but… I’m glad there’s someone around who you trust.” Bobby twisted the helm of his hat. “Though won’t lie and say I’m not a little miffed that you went to him for medical expenses instead of coming to us first.”

“Whoa, that’s not what happened,” Dean practically screeched. “Cas handled it all while I was still at work. I still have no idea how much the total bill came to, and I don’t think Cas will ever let me know.”

“Huh, he did all of that without prompting. Boy, he must really like you,” Bobby said, watching Dean curiously.

Dean tried to laugh it off. “Of course he does, I’m friggin’ awesome.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, the car looks good to go. Now go hurry up before Rufus starts digging through my fridge.”

“Don’t you tempt me, Bobby!” Rufus hollered.

Dean rolled his eyes, but quickly followed through with his tasks. It helped that Bobby was letting him spend the time waiting for pizza as part of his extended lunch, which meant he could hang out in Bobby’s living room with Cas and Sammy.

Sam was stretched out on the couch, cocooned in a wool blanket, taking up every available space with his elongated limbs. Castiel was sitting on the floor closest to Sam’s head, and was the first to notice Dean. Castiel smiled wide, and the smell of the air right before a storm filled Dean’s senses.

Shit, Dean was getting way too familiar with Cas’ scent if he could already smell it from the other side of the room. If he could smell Cas from that far, then it meant that Cas could probably detect his true scent, especially if he sat next to him.

Dean was trying to think of a good excuse for not sitting too close to Cas, but then noticed the way Cas’ nose wrinkled in displeasure.

Right, Dean was covered in car grease, and Cas wasn’t used to that strong scent. “Sorry, Cas. I’ll try to stay downwind of you.”

“It’s alright,” Cas said, his voice nasally as he was clearly not breathing from his nose. “I’ve handled worse.”

“I’m sure you have, but you don’t need to suffer on my account,” Dean said, before sitting by Sam’s feet. He wasn’t suicidal enough to try to sit in Bobby’s recliner during a work shift.

Castiel nodded, returning his gaze back to the TV, but Dean could make out the disappointment in his scent.

Fuck, now Dean was sensing exact emotions along with scents. That kind of ability was closer to synthesia than heightened olfactory glands, and something that even his mom hadn’t been able to do with John. Unless it didn’t work with a mated beta since they couldn’t smell those things anyway? It would give one mate an unfair advantage over the other.

But if his mom didn’t know about this, then what other things could be missing?

Then Dean realized he was being foolish for even worrying. He only had two and a half more days with Castiel before the man rode off into the sunset. There was no point in stressing over all the what ifs when they would soon only be a memory.

Even true mates faded away with time.

“You seem deep in thought,” Castiel said, making Dean jolt. He wasn’t expecting the alpha’s voice to be so close to his ear.

“Dude, someone needs to put a bell on you. How did you move from the other side of the couch without me knowing?”

“Firstly, you weren’t paying attention, and secondly—” Castiel shot him a confident smile that made Dean’s heartbeat spike. It should be illegal how good that man looked, “—I am a highly skilled and trained operative. I know how to move without detection.”

“Why’d you even come over here? Shit, I must be burning your nose hairs off with my garage stench.”

“It’s alright; the odor is very strong, but I’ll get over it soon enough. Also it’s worth losing some of my nose hairs in exchange for more time with you, especially since this visit is drawing to an end.”

“I noticed how you said _this_ visit,” Sam cut in, surprising Dean since he thought his brother had fallen asleep. “Meaning that there will be another?”

Castiel shifted to make himself more comfortable on the floor. “That is my hope. If all goes well I hope to be back at some point during the winter holidays.”

“Around Christmas? That’s only a month away!” Dean said, not understanding how Castiel would want to return to Kansas.

“Is that too soon?” Castiel frowned, and curled into himself. “That was very presumptuous of me to assume you would want to see me again so soon, after hosting me for the past couple of days.”

Dean didn’t like to see Cas look so insecure, and instinctively pulled him out of his huddle, an action that incidentally turned into hugging the man. “Hell no. If you decided to show up again next week I’d be friggin’ ecstatic. I’m just shocked that you aren’t sick of us already.”

“I don’t think I could ever get sick of you,” Castiel breathed, and Dean was suddenly aware of how close Cas’ face was to his own, close enough that he could make out all the different swirls of blue that made his eyes so vivid.

“I don’t think I could ever get sick of you, Cas,” Dean admitted.

Despite how close they were already, Dean felt himself gravitating even closer, until all he could smell was a beautiful day out on the lake, right after a summer storm. Having a picnic with apple-honey pie that was so fresh that the juice exploded on his taste buds.

Closer and closer he drifted towards Castiel, and he unconsciously licked his lips.

If he kissed Castiel, what would he taste? Would it taste like expensive spring water? Or would it taste like the honey scent Dean knew Castiel was responsible for?

Before he could find out, they were interrupted by a loud curse from Bobby in the hallway.

“Who the hell is the idjit that left their shoe in the middle of the hallway? It ain’t even both, just one! What did you even do, pogo hop across my damn house?”

Castiel pulled away from Dean to call out into the hallway. “I apologize, Bobby! Sam threw his shoe at me, and I forgot to put it back at the door.”

Dean tried to hide his disappointment behind confusion. “Sammy, why’d you throw your shoe?”

Sam shrugged. “I cannot be held accountable for my actions while under the influence of narcotics.”

“I believe he was upset because I reminded him that I was leaving Sunday,” Castiel informed them.

“That doesn’t sound right,” Sam said, and Dean had to agree. The boy had a temper, but he wouldn’t snap over that.

Castiel blushed. “Actually, you threw your shoe at me after I mentioned how I couldn’t miss another day because my father had made arrangements with the omega candidates.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam said sheepishly, before burying further into his blanket.

The blanket didn’t keep him safe from Dean’s glares.

Dean needed to give Sam another talk about playing matchmaker. He didn’t want to, but Sam should know there was a reason there weren’t homosexual couples.

But he didn’t have to do that now.

“I’m going to make sure Bobby didn’t break himself out there.” Dean excused himself, forcing himself away from Cas’ magnetic pull and standing up.

“Don’t bother,” Bobby’s voice sounded from behind Dean, making him jump. Dean really hated the fact that betas were practically scentless. “I’m old, not decrepit.”

“There’s a difference?” Dean cheekily replied, and then got swatted on the back of the head.

“Ya numbskull. If you want to be useful, you can go fetch the food when the pizza man shows up. Until then, you can go back to doing...whatever the hell it was you were doing.”

Dean dug his nails into his palms in order not to flush in front of Bobby. He was tempted to move further away from Cas as well, but he knew that would look more suspicious, so he sat back down beside him.

The smell of rain got stronger, and Dean had to force himself to stop breathing out of his nose so he didn’t end up burying it against Cas’ neck.

“Oh, Dean,” Sam said, suddenly sitting up. “Cas and I were looking up a botanical we can check out tomorrow!”

“Huh?” Dean intelligently replied.

“Yeah, since it’s really the last full day we have with him, and you promised we could have an outing this weekend.” Sam had the audacity to pout and use his puppy dog eyes on Dean.

“I did, but… I don’t really have the time to do both. So we either do the botany thing, or the Egyptian thing,” Dean warned. He didn’t mention that he also didn’t think Sam had it in him to take on two trips in one day.

“I’d rather go to the botanical garden. Who knows when we’ll get to see Cas again, and the Egyptian exhibit is going on for another month.”

Dean was grateful that it meant he wouldn’t have to pay for museum tickets, but he still felt guilty. “I don’t want anyone to feel like a third wheel.”

“I can always ask Garth and Jo if they want to join. We can even use the car ride there to get some studying done, so I don’t fall behind,” Sam said, though Dean saw the calculating look in his eyes.

Sam wanted to give Dean an excuse to have some alone time with Cas, when that was really the last thing he needed.

“Alright, though we need to do some research and see if there’s anything nearby.”

“There’s a botanical garden out by Wichita,” Bobby said as he flopped into his recliner. He huffed when everyone turned to him. “What? My mate was from Wichita, and I have fond memories of that city. Never been to the garden, but always saw it in passing.”

Dean frowned. “That’s going to be a seven-hour trip back and forth.”

“We’ve been in the car for longer stretches than that,” Sam argued.

“You just had surgery!” Dean yelled.

“I’m not doing anything strenuous! Hell, I’m already used to sleeping in Baby, so it’s not like I can’t nap in her.”

“Still, with that long of a drive, we won’t even have time to see much.”

“I could book us a hotel,” Cas chimed in. Dean glared, but Castiel rolled his eyes. “I’m renting a hotel room now, so it’s an expense I’m already paying. I can just check out tomorrow when you pick me up.”

Dean wasn’t convinced.

“It also would be easier for me to fly out of Wichita,” Castiel pointed out. “If you need a trade off, I will pay for all expenses for this outing in exchange for you dropping me off at the airport.”

“That doesn’t sound fair. I was planning on dropping you off anyway,” Dean grumbled.

“Perfect, I was planning on paying for everything anyway, so now we both can do as we intended.” Castiel smirked.

“There’s one other hiccup,” Bobby pointed out. “It’s a Tier 3 dress code.”

Dean groaned, but neither Sam nor Castiel seemed to understand the problem.

“What’s the problem with Tier 3?” Castiel asked, confused.

“The problem is we don’t have anything above Tier 2 clothes. Heck, most of our things are only Tier 1.”

“Can’t we just buy some Tier 3 clothes?” Sam asked.

Dean blushed from embarrassment. “Sam, we can’t exactly afford that. Do you know how the Tiers even work?”

Sam stared at him. “Umm… Tier 7 is for clothes royalty wear and Tier 1 is casual wear?”

“Yes, but an extra zero is added to the outfit’s price for each tier you go up. Tier 1 is up to $10, Tier 2 is up to $100, and Tier 3 is—”

“A thousand?” Sam breathed, looking sick. “Okay, yeah, that’s too pricey.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Castiel disagreed.

“Cas, really?” Dean snapped.

Castiel shrugged. “You deserve to have Tier 3 clothes, especially if Sam has any upcoming interviews for his placements. Both law school and med school applicants will be expected to have at least one Tier 3 set of clothes.”

Great, another thing Dean couldn’t help Sam with.

“That’s a shit ton of money to be spending on us just for a trip.”

“A trip for my own benefit. Dean, trust me, even if I spend $10,000 in credits this weekend, it wouldn’t put a dent in my savings.”

“Fine, then how about this? If you think you can get us all Tier 3 clothing by tonight, then we can head out tomorrow morning.”

“Deal.” Castiel took Dean’s hand and shook on it. Dean tried to ignore the shock and warmth he felt from the simple contact.

What was he? In middle school? Touching hands wasn’t intimate.

Shaking his head, Dean crossed his arms, and stared at Cas. “Doesn’t mean I think you’ll be able to pull it off. You don’t even know our sizes.”

“Yes, but I have my secret weapon. Meg.”


	23. Roadtrip

Dean didn’t take Castiel’s secret weapon seriously, but by the next morning he was forced to model a pair of Tier 3 clothes that clearly cost more than a month of his wages. Though he had to admit, the material felt worth every credit, with the durable fabric molded perfectly to his body. Hell, he practically felt naked despite the three layers of clothes he had on.

“Wow. I can barely recognize you.” Sam laughed, his reflection suddenly appearing in the mirror.

“It’s because only douchebag betas wear these kinds of clothes,” Dean grumbled, tugging at the v-neck that sloped down a little too far. He had a feeling that Castiel took fashion advice from Balthazar, since the beta was the only man Dean knew who liked giving people an eyeful of his manscaped chest.

Not that Dean really could judge manscaping, considering his own chest was as smooth as Baby’s hood after a fresh wax.

“I think you’re just bitter that you can’t wear denim,” Sam teased.

“Nah, I’m actually okay with these pants. They’re surprisingly comfortable, and who am I to deny that my butt looks good in them,” Dean said with a smirk, and Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m more worried about having a man nip slip in this shirt. A mip slip?”

“Don’t call it that,” Sam groaned. “And it’s not like you haven’t been shirtless before.”

“Yeah, by choice!” Dean turned around to finally look at Sam’s outfit and grumbled, “Okay, that’s not fair! You actually look cool.”

As cool as one could look in a sweater vest, but at least Sam looked normal, and had on a nice leather jacket... even if it _was_ the shade of a number 2 pencil.

A leather jacket that could be fully zipper, and didn’t have the sideways zipper monstrosity present on Dean’s wine-red leather jacket.

Sam shrugged. “You probably only think that because Cas picked out my clothes based on what he used to wear at my age.”

“Huh, that does explain why you look like a bumblebee. You know, if bees were nothing but limbs and foreheads.”

Sam shot him a bitchface. “Whatever you say, Mr. V-neck.”

“Gah!” Dean complained, pushing past Sam to go through his dresser to put on some kind of undershirt. Unfortunately, he was super behind on laundry, and the only undershirt he had available was a nude shirt that he bought for his heats because it was both lightweight and super soft.

Dean liked soft things during his heat.

He debated if he really wanted to wear it under his expensive clothes, but a sudden cold breeze down his chest quickly answered that question. No way was he walking around outside this close to winter with all of this skin showing.

Using Sam as a coat rack—much to Sam’s displeasure—Dean quickly put the undershirt on, and decided that at least he felt more comfortable in his clothes. “There, that’s better.”

“You know, you could have asked me to hold your clothes for you,” Sam grumbled, before handing Dean back his leather jacket.

“Yeah, but my way was faster. Now am I still bringing your gawky friend with us?”

“Garth? Yeah. Apparently his parents are really excited to have the weekend to themselves,” Sam answered, shifting his clothes so that they laid perfectly on him. “They actually encouraged us to keep him for as long as possible.”

Dean made a face before nodding. “You know, sometimes I feel bad for that kid. Might as well tell him to get his fancy clothes on and be ready for us to hit the road in twenty. Figure we can stop for breakfast when we make the halfway point to the city.”

“Sounds good, I’ll go give him a call,” Sam said, heading towards the door, before pausing. “Hey, Dean?”

“What?” Dean asked, in between spritzing himself with hunter spray.

“Can you believe this is our life right now? I mean… Tier 3 clothing? Going to this fancy museum all the way out in the city? Getting to spend the night in a _hotel_ instead of a motel or car? It feels kind of… unbelievable in a way.”

“Yeah… honestly, I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. We never have such an easy week.”

Despite Sam’s appendicitis, it had been a good week for them overall. Sam and Dean had spent more time with each other than they had in years, Castiel kept splurging on meals so they didn’t have to go without, and John had been gone all week, so there also wasn’t any of the drama that revolved around him.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m still in the operating room,” Sam admitted. “It’s just been too nice.”

“I know, Sammy. But it is real. For once, we are getting ourselves a real vacation, and instead of questioning it, we should just enjoy it for as long as it lasts.”

“Funny to hear that coming from you, considering you’re the pessimist.”

Dean stuck out his tongue. “You know what, I’ll show you. I’ll be Mr. Optimist for the rest of the weekend!”

“Usual wager?”

Dean made a face. “Usual wager. Loser gets stuck with all the chores for the week, and winner picks the shows for the week.”

“Good, because there’s this documentary about H. H. Holmes that’s airing the same time as _Dr. Sexy_ next week.”

Dean made a garbled noise. “But next week is the midseason finale! I have to find out what will happen to Dr. Wesson and Dr. Piccolo, and if Dr. Smith will ever be a doctor again!”

Sam snickered. “More incentive for you to win.”

“Just shut up and make your damn phone call already,” Dean huffed, pulling his own cell phone out to text Castiel.

When they picked Castiel up almost half an hour later, he had traded in his cheap trench coat for a more expensive and fashionable one, and was also rocking the sweater vest look.

“You look like a college professor or something,” Dean teased as Castiel settled into the front seat.

“Thank you. I wouldn’t lie and say the thought never crossed my mind of becoming one.” Castiel smiled. “And you don’t look like a lumberjack today.”

“Hey!” Dean sputtered as Sam and Garth laughed in the backseat. “Hey, no fair, Sam. He’s calling you out too!”

“Yeah, only because I have to wear your lumberjack hand-me-downs,” Sam retorted.

“Whatever. Don’t you guys have a history test or something to get back to?”

“Dean has a point,” Garth agreed. “Okay, Sam. How long did the United States of America’s government last?”

“If you count the First Revolution, then 1776-1814,” Sam said, bored. “But then the British reconquered America as its colony.”

“Correct! And what year did the U.S.A. become the Legion of America?”

“1915. General Carver Edlund took advantage of the British being distracted by the First World War and reclaimed the country so that only Americans would rule over them.”

Castiel tensed in his seat.

“It’s going to be boring for the next hour,” Dean warned. “But the kid has to study.”

“I understand; it’s actually nostalgic,” Castiel said, but he was still tense.

“You guys can try answering as well. Might keep Sam on his toes,” Garth suggested.

“I don’t need competition,” Sam complained.

“Yeah, but it might keep you awake longer,” Garth pointed out.

“Might keep your driver awake too. You guys are pretty boring.” Dean smirked. “Just take it easy on me. It’s been four years since I had to review this shit.”

“You should know this one, Dean,” Garth said, leafing through his notes. “How many kings has the Legion had?”

“We’re on our… third. But we’ve had a shit-ton of queens,” Dean answered.

“A shit-ton isn’t a real answer, Dean.” Sam laughed.

“Well he didn’t ask anything about the queens, and how am I supposed to remember? Our current king has had, like, seven wives already.”

“Actually, only four,” Garth pointed out. “But Dean’s right, there’s no questions about the queens on the test.”

“Of course not. Unless a queen is ruling, history forgets about her,” Dean said.

Omegas were always forgotten in history. Their only purpose was to fade into the background.

“Okay, next question. What type of government is the Legion?”

Dean was tempted to say a dictatorship, but he was afraid that someone could be listening in. But it didn’t feel right answering the question the ‘correct’ way.

“The Legion is considered a combination of an absolute monarchy and a democracy,” Sam responded. “It combined the old British monarchy with the original values of the first American government. The King is the leader of his country, and upon his death or retirement his alpha son will take over. The King chooses his own cabinet, with the power to replace any of the members with his alpha sons when he feels they are ready. The citizens then get to vote for additional government representatives.”

“Correct. How much is each person’s vote worth?”

“Unmarried alphas’ votes count as two points. Betas of both genders count as one. Unmarried omegas also count as one vote, but once she is married, she gives her vote over to her alpha husband, and he then has three votes since he is voting on behalf of his family,” Sam answered again.

Which Dean thought was bullshit, but once again was afraid to voice it.

“Don’t know what you’re worried for, you’re going to ace this test when you go back to school,” Dean said.

“It’s a cumulative exam, Dean,” Sam sighed. “This is just the easy section.”

“I agree with Dean, I think you’ll do great on this exam,” Garth exclaimed. “Okay, what are the three greatest achievements that Legion provided?”

“Free healthcare for all, a job for everyone upon graduation of high school, and a 99% reduction in crimes.”

All for the price of losing one’s privacy, and limiting their ability to make choices!

Dean realized that Castiel hadn’t said a word since they started studying, and spared a quick glance at him. He was just as rigid as he was before. “You okay, Cas?”

“Yes,” Castiel breathed out, clearly forcing himself to relax. “I’m… just more and more reminded that soon I will have to go home and face my father.”

“And seniors studying history reminded you of that?”

Castiel shifted nervously. “I haven’t exactly been forthcoming about my father. You assumed he was a big businessman, but in actuality he deals with laws. This is just reminding me of many of my lessons. Even overseas I wasn’t spared from them.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, wondering why Castiel was still dancing around what his dad did for a living, but then realized it was none of his business.

“Do you want us to stop?” Sam asked.

Castiel shook his head. “It’s alright, I can tune you out.”

“Maybe lower the volume, boys,” Dean instructed and turned to Cas. “And we can chat. It’s a long ride for us to both be staring at the road.”

Dean could smell the slight amusement flowing off Cas as he answered, “I would hope you continue to stare at the road, seeing as how you are the driver.”

Dean turned in his seat just to stick his tongue out at Cas. He tried not to flush at the way the alpha seemed to be hyper-focused on his lips. Dean cleared his throat and returned his gaze onto the road. “So, Cas, is there any difference to the plants you find out here in the Midwest compared to what you have on the East Coast?”

“Oh, plenty of difference, especially since the terrain is different. You see, the Midwest is mostly prairie land, which means the soil content is more—”

Dean let Castiel continue to talk on, even though he only understood half the things the guy was going on about. The words might be passing through his ears with little understanding, but the scent of happy alpha wafted through his nose, making Dean feel elated as well.

For a moment, he could pretend that their hours weren’t numbered, and that he could always have this.


	24. Freckles

Dean could understand why there weren’t any alphas in attendance at the botanical garden; the air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers, and could easily be overpowering to their noses.

He looked at Castiel nervously, noticing the way the man had slowed his breathing. “You okay over there?”

Castiel nodded, his face serious as he concentrated on breathing, but his blues eyes were bright and ecstatic. “Just trying to desensitize my nose. The smell is only going to get stronger the further in we go.”

Dean’s nose wrinkled at the thought of smells getting worse, but inwardly agreed that it was good advice and started following Castiel’s lead.

“Alright,” Castiel said after a deep breath, “I’m ready to go in.”

Dean nodded, before turning around to gesture at his teenage charges to stop meandering and join them over by the ticket booth.

“All-day, all-exhibit passes for two adults and two teenagers,” Castiel said, handing over his card without hearing the amount of credits it would cost.

Dean envied having that kind of confidence in his finances.

The female beta at the booth looked at them questioningly. “You don’t see a crowd like you everyday.”

Dean saw the way Castiel’s smile fell slightly, and picked up the scent of embarrassment.

No, not embarrassment. Shame.

Which only made Dean feel angry and defensive. “I didn’t realize it was part of your job to make observations like that.”

The beta blushed and quickly printed out their tickets and returned Castiel’s card. “Have a good day.”

Dean gave her a final glare before turning to Castiel and saying, “Don’t you ever feel ashamed for liking this kind of thing. Your sub-gender has nothing to do with your likes and dislikes, and don’t let other people treat you like some kind of oddity.”

Castiel seemed confused. “How… you’re right. There’s no reason to deprive myself of the things I love just because someone doesn’t understand.”

Dean nodded, grabbing four pamphlets and passing them out. “You got that right. Now what do you want to check out first?”

“I think it’s only fair that we all pick out one thing we’d like to see, and work around that,” Castiel said, his smell getting happier and happier the more he looked through the brochure.

“I know what I want to check out, and I even think I know what Dean wants to see,” Sam said, smirking wide.

“Oh yeah, you think you know me so well,” Dean teased, knowing that Sam probably did know exactly what he wanted to see.

“Yeah, there’s a koi pond pavilion that you’d love.” Sam smiled wide, knowing that he was right.

“Dean likes fish?” Cas asked, surprised.

“Well, fishing. Honestly, he just likes being around bodies of water,” Sam replied.

“Can you blame me? Even I get tired of flat lands,” Dean huffed, but dogeared the page on the pamphlet so that they could check it out.

“Which is why we should move to California. All that ocean, and it’s fishing season year round,” Sam argued.

“It’s also earthquake season year round. No thanks. Now pick out your exhibit before I skip your turn.”

“Fine, I want to see the Shakespeare Garden,” Sam said, though his cheeks were a little pink. “I might have really gotten into his stuff after Cas did his reading in the hospital.”

“I wish I could have seen that,” Garth bemoaned. “I’m sure it was better than Mr. Metatron. That guy is a boring asshole.”

Dean made a disgusted noise before saying, “Can’t believe they still have Metadick around. The only thing I remember from his lessons was how alphas were nothing but brainless knotheads, and omegas were submissive wallflowers.”

“Wasn’t he convinced that you were an alpha in disguise or something?” Sam laughed.

“Yeah, he didn’t believe I'm a beta with my size. Hell, he even went out of his way to make me look like an idiot to prove that I was all brawn, and no brain,” Dean huffed.

Admittedly, his old homeroom and English teacher got to him more than he’d like to admit. He was originally debating about being an engineer before Metatron tore into his confidence. Not that he could have afforded to be an engineer, but it would have been nice if Dean had come to that decision himself.

Dean was snapped out of his thoughts by the smells of burning ozone and offended alpha. “It’s okay, Cas,” he said as he placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “That was years ago, and that dick isn’t worth ruining our vacation.”

Cas’ eyes widened in astonishment, and even his scent felt questioning.

“I know what I want to do!” Garth interrupted. “I want to check out the butterfly house!”

“Guess it’s just you left, Cas,” Dean said.

“My exhibit shouldn’t be too surprising to you,” Castiel said, with a smirk. “There’s a bee tour and a honey tasting at 1 PM. It looks like we can hit the Shakespeare Garden first, then the koi pond, reach the tour in time, and then make our way to the butterfly exhibit. Looks like there’s plenty of plants to appreciate on the way, and if we’re not tired we can go check out any other exhibit that catches our eye.”

“I’m so excited,” Garth proclaimed, playing with the digital camera that was around his neck. “I’ve been dying to use this camera for over a year, and now I can take all the pictures I want!”

“Great, we have paparazzi,” Dean teased. “Just don’t harass us for pictures.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Garth smiled his ever chipper smile. “Not when there’s plenty of plants and neat stuff to take pictures of instead!”

Dean wasn’t sure who was worse at investigating every little flower: Garth or Castiel. Dean was already feeling tired by the time they finally made it to the Shakespeare exhibit, and Sam immediately headed towards a wooden bench to relax on. Dean squeezed in alongside him, looking off at the giant water fountain that encompassed most of the exhibit.

“How ya doing, kid?” Dean asked, but he kept his eyes on the fountain. He was grateful for the fresh water smell to clear the air from all the floral scents and pollen. He didn’t know how Cas could stand it, but it was probably the same way he could tolerate being in the garage for hours.

“I’m good,” Sammy said, resting further back. “A little tired, but in a good way. It’s nice being out. Doing something so far away from home, and that we’d never get to do otherwise.”

“We’ll try to get out more,” Dean promised. “Won’t lie, we’ll probably never be able to do something this big again, at least not until you start raking in the big bucks—” he ruffled Sam’s long hair at that, “—But we’ll find something.”

Sam slapped Dean’s hand away. “Starting with the Egyptian exhibit?”

“Yep, it will be just the two of us.”

“Hey, you work tomorrow night, right?” Sam asked, and Dean nodded. “Does this mean we’ll finally get to stay at Ellen’s?”

Dean thought it over, before nodding again. “Yeah. No need to ruin our vacation mood by going straight back home.”

“Where do you think Dad is, anyway?”

Dean closed his eyes and leaned further back against the bench himself. “I don’t know, Sam. I never really do. The only thing I can hope for is that he’s not dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Would it really be such a bad thing if he was?” Sam whispered.

Sometimes Dean wondered the same thing. “Yes, because it might mean losing you, kiddo. And you are the one thing in the world that I can’t lose.”

Dean could smell the scent of wet, rotting grass, and he instinctively wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

Sam relaxed against his hold, and the awful smell started to dissipate.“Thanks, Dean. I… I don’t think I could ever lose you either.”

“Lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

They stayed like that for a good fifteen minutes, with Sam slowly nodding off against Dean’s shoulder. Both Castiel and Garth noticed, but neither dared to move too close until Sam woke himself up.

“Are you ready to progress?” Castiel asked.

Sam yawned and smiled. “Yeah, I think I’ll be good for the next couple of hours.”

“If you are sure,” Castiel said, then paused. “Just know that we won’t judge you if you need us to take more frequent stops. The last thing any of us wants to do is make you push yourself too far.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I was just a little tired because I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Sam admitted, his smile growing more sheepish. “I was too excited.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You nerd.”

“Like you weren’t excited!”

Neither one of them pointed out how it was their first real vacation.

“Whatever.” Dean rolled his eyes and helped Sam to his feet. “Now let's go see some expensive-ass fish.”

It turned out that the pavilion was on top of a giant hill, which they had to climb slowly for Sam’s benefit, but once they reached the top they had the perfect view of all of the surrounding gardens.

“Worth the view, huh?” Garth asked, snapping countless pictures.

“It certainly is,” Castiel said, his voice in awe, and his scent emulating the same wonder.

Dean turned around, curious as to what Castiel was looking at to cause such a reaction, only to catch those blue eyes staring straight at him. He unconsciously rubbed his cheek, wondering if he had anything on it.

“You have a little dirt on your cheek,” Castiel whispered softly, stepping closer into Dean’s space, and slowly raised his hand to cup Dean’s cheek. His eyes seemed to search into Dean’s before he used the pad of his thumb to rub across his cheek bones.

Once. Twice. Three times, before resting the digit on Dean’s face.

“My apologies,” Castiel whispered, his breath feeling much closer than it was before, and Dean felt like he was being enveloped by a summer sun shower. The smell clogging his nose, the illusion of sprinkles of warm water that felt refreshing against his suddenly flushed skin. “It was only a freckle.”

Yet he made no move to let Dean go, and Dean had no intentions of making him. He knew that once the moment was broken, then they’d have to pretend that this exchange was meaningless, and he wasn’t ready to put up that facade. All he wanted to do was freeze this very moment and pretend that this was a future he could have.

In his fantasies, Castiel was his true mate, and was not only aware of that fact, but overjoyed by it. They could publicly proclaim their love, while Sam, Ellen, and Bobby all joked about planning the future wedding, much to Dean’s embarrassment and Castiel’s delight. Castiel would decide to stay with Dean, and be willing to follow both Winchesters to wherever Sam’s career led him.

Together, the three of them could be a family, until Sam found his own true mate. Then Castiel and Dean could expand their nest, and even though they could have their own biological kids, Castiel would respect that Dean preferred adoption.

They could be happy. They would be.

But they would never be that lucky.

Taking a shaky breath, Dean removed Castiel’s hands and stepped away. Dean didn’t need to smell the unhappiness that movement caused; he could see it on Castiel’s face.

“Easy mistake,” Dean said with a weak smile. “Come on, let’s get inside and see if the fish were also worth the climb.”

Dean highly doubted they would be, but to his relief the sight of the beautiful indoor pond, and the shimmering fish, brought a sense of calm to him. Made his heart unclench a bit.

“You really do enjoy being around fish,” Castiel observed, slipping silently next to him.

“Yeah, I do. Don’t know why. It’s nice to watch them.” Dean shrugged his shoulders, but refused to look at Castiel. “I guess I also like the smell of fresh water.”

“Fresh water like rain?” Castiel asked, his voice too calm and calculating. “Or fresh like lake water?”

“Both,” Dean admitted, his eyes on a big koi fish that reminded him of a calico cat. “I like the smell of both.”

Castiel nodded. “I really enjoy the smell of honey, though I’m gaining a fondness for the smell of apples as well.”

Dean tensed, and watched as the koi dived deeper into the water until it was out of view.

Castiel sighed, before shifting. “We have another half an hour to waste before the bee tour. I hope that you… can forgive whatever transgressions I made by that point.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Cas,” Dean croaked.

“I’ll believe that when you can look at me again,” Castiel murmured, before moving away.

It took all of Dean’s self restraint not to angrily uproot the plant next to him.


	25. Ambrosia

“Honey?” a female voice asked.

Dean looked up in surprise and saw a woman with a name tag reading “Colette” pinned near her omega patch. “Huh?”

“Did you decide what flavor of honey you wanted to sample?” she asked, gesturing at the honey sticks on the table.

“I’ll take this one. Thanks,” Dean said, blindly reaching for a stick in hopes that it would get her to leave him alone.

“Alfalfa? That’s my husband’s favorite flavor. I hope you enjoy it, and we have a bunch of jars of that stuff on hand if you decide to take some home with you.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.” Dean smiled politely, before fleeing towards Sam and Garth, who were hanging around a sunflower patch.

Dean didn’t bother searching for Castiel, assuming the man still wanted some space.

“What flavor did you get?” Sam asked, slowly licking his sample.

“Alfalfa? I don’t know, I just picked at random. Is yours good?”

“I got the buckwheat,” Sam supplied. “It’s actually more spicy than sweet, which I wasn’t expecting. Cas says mine goes really well on toast.”

“I got the Eucalyptus. It’s kind of minty and Cas said mine goes well with tea,” Garth added.

“Cas really knows his honey,” Dean muttered, before chewing open his own stick for a taste.

At first it tasted just like regular storebrand honey to him, but it wasn’t as sickeningly sweet, and it had an earthy aftertaste. It was pretty good.

“Are you and Cas okay?” Sam eyed him suspiciously. “You’ve both been dancing around each other since the koi pond.”

“We’re fine,” Dean grumbled before loudly slurping more of his honey.

“I’m not so sure,” Garth said. “If he had dog ears, they'd be pinned down all sad.”

“Just because he’s an alpha doesn’t mean he’s a dog,” Dean scoffed.

“We know that, but he’s obviously hurting,” Sam said, pointing the honey stick at Dean. “And you need to get your head out of your ass and talk to him.”

Dean grumbled.

“And use your words for once, instead of assuming he knows what you mean.” Sam crossed his arms, glowering at Dean until he felt properly cowed.

“Fine, I’ll talk to him. Where is he anyway?”

“He’s talking to the apiary owner,” Garth said, pointing behind him. “I think he was asking him about urban beekeeping.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but a feeling of fondness flooded his system. “Of course he is. Well hopefully he’s done fangirling by the time I get over there.”

Dean didn’t realize how much he was hoping that Castiel was still occupied, until the alpha finished up his talk with the long-haired beta, and looked directly at Dean. Dean had no idea what to say, and just awkwardly stared at the alpha.

Castiel’s blue eyes were dull for the first time, with none of the light that usually sparkled from their depths. “Is there something you want, _Dean_?”

Even his name sounded different in Cas’ mouth.

“Uh, yeah. Can we… you know, talk?”

Castiel studied his face, and Dean willed himself not to look away.

“Alright.” Castiel turned back to the beekeeper. “Thank you so much for your information, Cain, and for your business card. I have a feeling I might need to call you in the future once I get everything set up.”

Cain nodded, explaining, “The first hive can be nerve-wracking, but I have faith that you will be able to pull it off. We need more bee enthusiasts like you in the world.”

Castiel smiled appreciatively, but Dean could tell it was forced. “I appreciate the faith. Have a good day.”

“You too, Castiel.” Cain gave Dean a curious glance before walking away.

Castiel waited until Cain was out of earshot before turning his attention back to Dean. “Yes?”

“You’re upset,” Dean said before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

“I’m not upset,” Castiel disagreed. “I’m… confused. Confused, and disappointed.”

“That’s even worse.”

“I don’t need you to feel guilty over my emotions,” Castiel said, looking at the grass.

“Well too bad, because I do, and I know it has something to do with me.” Dean gestured around them. “We’re at a bee sanctuary, but you look like someone just ran over your cat!”

Castiel grimaced. “That’s a gruesome analogy.”

“Yeah, well that’s what you look like. So tell me, how can I fix this?”

“You can’t fix me, Dean,” Castiel mumbled, putting more distance between the two. “I’m starting to realize that I’m damaged beyond repair.”

Dean was momentarily stunned, and his brain didn’t register anything that was going on until Castiel was hundreds of feet away. “Don’t you walk away from me, Cas!”

Castiel ignored him and kept walking. Dean cursed and went jogging after him, only for Castiel to start running himself.

Fuck, the last thing Dean needed was for Castiel to hit alpha speeds. An omega could keep pace, but a beta couldn’t, as both omegas and alphas were made for fast bursts of speed while betas were designed for endurance running.

Before Castiel had the chance to get too far, Dean lunged for him—football tackle style—and wrestled Castiel to the ground. Dean straddled his hips, and had two handfuls of Castiel’s sweater vest before realizing that he’d taken this a step too far.

Holy shit, he tackled an alpha to the ground! He was going to end up in jail if anyone reported this.

“What are you doing?” Castiel growled.

“I have no fucking idea, but that’s pretty normal when it comes to you,” Dean said with a hysterical chuckle. “It’s like my brain just shuts off whenever I’m with you and I run on instincts.”

Castiel closed his eyes and laid his head on the ground. “I share the same sentiments.”

“Then how about you also share what you meant about before. About being too damaged to fix? What the hell, man?”

“Dean, I think I’m going crazy,” Castiel admitted. “I’m smelling, tasting, and feeling things that shouldn’t be possible.”

Dean loosened his grip and stared at Castiel in disbelief.

Castiel opened his eyes, and stared into Dean’s. Dean stared back, at a loss for words.

“I’m seeing things as well. Things that I know my mind is misinterpreting, but I desperately want to be true. I look at you and...and I see everything I’ve ever wanted. Worse, I see you accepting it, and wanting me, too.”

Dean’s lungs no longer remembered how to function. Hell, his brain had shut down too, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if every other organ of his body was ready to go on strike as well.

Except for his heart. His heart was beating harder and faster than it ever had before. It felt like it was screaming at him.

_You love Cas. Cas loves you._

“Are you sure you’re imagining that part?” Dean said, despite the terror in admitting those words. “What if that part was real?”

Castiel’s eyes widened. “I… I’d need to know what you’d want, but I have a feeling I already do. You don’t want to tie yourself down; you plan to be a bachelor.”

“And you’ll be mated by the end of the year,” Dean reminded him.

“I’ll be betrothed, but not by choice,” Castiel agreed. “But there is no deadline for a marriage. It could give me enough time to get out of the arrangement.”

Dean stared at Castiel and wondered if the man actually was crazy. “And do what? Declare yourself a bachelor like me?”

Castiel gave him a shy smile. “Maybe in name, but not in heart.”

Dean’s shoulders shook from silent laughter caused by the combination of ecstasy and hysteria. “So what, are you just going to file for a job transfer and move out to the country with me? Do you really see yourself living in Kansas?”

“I wouldn’t mind living in Kansas, but something tells me that Sam wants you to move to California.” Castiel smirked, and Dean was relieved to see that the smile reached his eyes. “Perhaps we’ll move there? In one of the rural areas where there’s plenty of land and privacy.”

Dean licked his lips and said, “You’d enjoy that, huh? You could plant all types of things if you have some acreage of land. Have some hives too, so you can have your own honey.”

“I’d like to plant some apple trees as well. Award winning apples that could make award winning apple pies, and other baked goods.”

Dean didn’t have to question if Cas picked up on the happy scent of apples wafting off of him; he could see the way the alpha’s nostrils flared, and how those blue irises shrank as his pupils dilated. But Dean also could also see the confusion, and felt the fear rippling through Castiel.

“You’re not crazy,” Dean promised. “I can’t explain it, especially not in public like this, but I swear I will when I know it’s safe.”

Castiel’s face relaxed with relief. “You don’t have to explain anything. All I needed to hear was that all of this wasn’t in my mind.”

“That’s it?” Dean was dubious.

“You have your secrets, and I have mine, but at the end of the day those secrets don’t change who I am, or how much you mean to me. And I know it’s presumptuous, but I think that might be the same for you as well.”

Dean couldn’t help but snicker, the fresh apples and the newer honey scent magnifying. Hearing that he meant a lot to Castiel made his omega spirits soar. “Nah, I think you got it right on the nose.”

Castiel’s scent of happiness mixed in with Dean’s, and he disentangled Dean’s hands from their grip on his shirt to replace with Castiel’s own hands. Castiel looked at their interlocked fingers in wonder, before looking in Dean’s eyes. “This is real?”

The words got caught in Dean’s throat, but he could at least nod.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours before Castiel sighed with remorse. “We should return to the boys. We’re lucky that no one else was around to spy on us, but we shouldn’t tempt it.”

Dean begrudgingly got up and helped Castiel to his feet. He noticed the alpha wince a bit as he stood up, and Dean immediately felt guilty. “Shit, did I hurt you when I tackled you?”

“I’m fine. Honestly, I think you inflicted more damage on my jacket than you did to me.” Castiel let go of Dean’s hands to turn around and reveal the grass and dirt stains on his new coat.

A coat that cost more than what Dean made in a month. “Holy shit, Cas! Fuck, I wasn’t thinking! I swear I’ll pay you back for the dry cleaning. It might take me a couple of months, but you can trust me that I will—”

Dean’s rant got interrupted by Castiel laughing. “Dean, it’s alright.”

“I tackled you to the ground!”

“Yes, and though not something I can usually condone, I can’t complain considering the results.” Castiel reached up and rubbed a finger over Dean’s cheek. “My apologies, I mistook another freckle for dirt again.”

“You know, you’re going to give me a complex if you keep doing that,” Dean teased, but his voice could barely raise above a whisper. “Always thinking my freckles look like dirt or something.”

“You shouldn’t be concerned,” Castiel’s hand traced a pattern along his cheekbone and across the bridge of his nose. “I like them.”

“Well you should see them during the summer. There’s more of them and they are darker.”

“I’ll be sure to make Kansas my summer home this year.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Shit, you _are_ rich enough to have a summer home, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and I do have every intention of coming back sometime between December and January.”

Dean’s stomach turned, and he could smell the beginnings of spoiling fruit. “Just don’t come around the last week of January. I’ll be busy.”

There were clearly questions on Castiel’s mind, but he didn’t press. “Alright. I’ll be sure to compare my schedule with yours and hope that there will be a time that works for both of us. Though I hope you don’t think that you need to take off work to entertain me or something.”

“Yeah, I know. Now let’s go find those kids before they eat their weight in those honey samples.”

The teens had ended up sampling fifteen different flavors by the time that Castiel and Dean returned to the honey stand, but both Cain and Colette had been happy to let the boys keep snacking.

“There aren’t too many people who take the tours this late in the year, especially not the young crowd,” Cain explained. “We find it nice to see such young faces here.”

“My husband also appreciated having a fellow bee enthusiast to talk to,” Colette said with a smile, and patted Cain on the arm. “You’re actually the first alpha to join our tour group.”

Castiel looked embarrassed, while Dean smiled. “Yeah, Cas here is pretty special.”

“Your intended mate must be so proud that she managed to snatch you up.” Colette grinned, while Dean and Castiel both stiffened.

“Mate?” Dean choked out.

“Oh, was he keeping that secret?” Colette blushed, and turned apologetically to Castiel. “I’m sorry, I smelt the beginnings of an alpha-omega mate-ship all over you from the moment you first walked in. I didn’t realize that no one else knew yet.”

“Yes, it’s all very new, and confusing. My… intended and I are still trying to work things out, and trying to figure out how to progress,” Castiel replied, somehow seeming both confident and polite.

Dean wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or anxious at the fact that Castiel was refusing to look at him during his discussion with Colette.

“Well, trust an omega’s nose on this: what you two have is a real strong bond. How many years have you and your girl known each other?” Colette asked.

“Colette,” Cain grumbled. “You don’t need to put the boy on the spot like that.”

“No, it’s alright,” Castiel said. “I’m curious what an omega nose can smell over mine. I find it very curious that your wife can already smell that I’ve… bonded. Is the scent really that strong?”

Colette nodded enthusiastically. “I can’t put my finger on the exact smell, but I know it’s very good, built on a very special bond.”

“Interesting, and does this bond usually take years to form?” Castiel asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Unless they’re true mates,” Colette said and smiled. “Which I know most people don’t believe in, but I can say for a fact that they’re real.”

Cain smiled even wider than his mate and engulfed her in a hug. “They sure are.”

Dean did an experimental sniff, and he noticed what Colette meant. He couldn’t make out much from the older couple’s scent except for the sweetness of the omega, but it did carry a smell that made Dean think of warmth and family. The exact odors involved were a mystery to him, but the feelings were tangible.

“True mates, you say?” Castiel said, nonchalant. “Funny, I used to not believe in them.”

“Used to?” Cain picked up.

“What changed your mind?” Colette asked, before giggling. “Sorry, I know I'm nosy, but I just _love_ hearing about young love.”

“I’m sure you can guess the answer to that,” Castiel said smoothly. “Though, we really should be going on our way.”

“Do you have another tour or scheduled event?” Cain asked, curious.

Castiel and Dean both shook their heads.

“Well, I usually don’t do this, but I’m about to go harvest some honey from the apiary, and was wondering if your group would like to watch,” Cain offered. “Even throw in another fresh sample for the boys.”

Dean looked at Sam and Garth to make sure that they weren’t bored yet. Both of them looked intrigued enough, and Dean knew that Castiel didn’t get to enjoy the first half of the tour. “As long as I don’t get stung then I’m up for it.”

“Honey bees only sting if they feel threatened,” Cain said dismissively.

“It would be unfortunate if you did get stung,” Castiel said wistfully. “Stinging you would kill the bee.”

“Wow, Cas, way to make me feel important,” Dean mockingly complained.

“You are, but I know you aren’t allergic to bees, so one of them stinging you will hurt them a lot more than it will hurt you.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just get a move on so we still have time to see Garth’s butterfly exhibit before Sammy’s nap time.”

“I’m almost eighteen, Dean,” Sam complained.

“You’re also recovering from surgery and this is the longest you’ve stayed awake all day,” Dean scoffed. “Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if you fall asleep in a field of flowers soon.”


	26. Butterflies

Sam didn’t fall asleep in a field of flowers, but only because all of the plants had been gated off so people couldn’t walk through them. Instead, Sam was passed out on a stone bench, loudly snoring away.

Dean and Cas were sitting on a bench across from Sam, and Garth was busy chasing butterflies around, trying to get as many pictures as possible. It was warm inside of the enclosure, since the butterflies needed the warm temperatures to survive, but to Dean the extra forty degrees felt scorching.

Dean unzipped his jacket, and was grateful for the fresh breeze blowing through his lighter top. He didn’t know how Sam or Cas could tolerate this heat with their jackets still closed, and also wearing sweater vests.

“How are you not melting?” Dean complained.

“Easy, I’m not a liquid,” Castiel replied, slowly stretching out his left leg and massaging his kneecap.

“I thought you said I didn’t hurt you?” Dean complained.

“You didn’t, I just overexerted it today. It’s an old injury from being overseas.”

Dean was curious how he had gotten hurt, but then remembered how Castiel said he had been in numerous near-death situations, and Dean didn’t need anymore nightmare fodder. “I still didn’t need to tackle you.”

“No you didn’t, but I also shouldn’t have been crouched in front of the beehive the way I was, and I should have repositioned myself when it started to hurt.”

Dean laughed and conceded, “Okay, that was your fault.”

“I’m glad I could alleviate your guilt,” Castiel deadpanned, before returning his gaze to Sam. “Speaking of fault, I hope this adventure isn’t pushing Sam too hard.”

“Won’t lie and say that’s not a concern of mine as well. But he’s really happy to be here, and I’ve seen him smile more today than I’ve seen him smile in years,” Dean said, watching Sam’s peaceful face. “This was exactly what he needed.”

“What about you?” Castiel asked, but his eyes stayed firmly on Sam’s form. “Has this day also been good for you?”

Dean didn’t look at Castiel, but shifted his leg closer to Castiel’s until it was pressed up against him. “Yeah, it’s been really good. Never really thought I could have a day like this, and I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for you. So thanks, Cas. For everything.”

“It was my pleasure,” Castiel said, his leg pressing back against Dean’s.

Dean didn’t need to ask Castiel if he was enjoying everything; the alpha was already sending out happy pheromones that were making Dean feel punch-drunk happy. He wondered if Castiel was also getting a feedback loop of Dean’s own happiness, and that only encouraged the dopamine and endorphins he was secreting.

“So what’s the plan for the rest of the day, _Alpha_?” Dean asked, using the title teasingly.

“Oh, so now I’m an alpha? What makes you think I have the rest of the day planned?” Castiel asked, and Dean didn’t need to turn his head to know that there was a wide smile on his face.

“Because you already agreed to pay for everything, and I don’t even know where we are staying tonight.”

“Hmm, that is true, though I still want your input, at least for the food. I’m not going to tell you about the hotel, because I already know you’re going to try to weasel your way into me finding a cheaper one.”

“Damn it, you’re right. So what were you thinking for food?”

“I thought we should take advantage of our Tier 3 clothes and go somewhere a little more upscale for dinner.”

Dean’s stomach twisted. “Oh?”

Castiel’s hand ended up on Dean’s knee and gave it a quick squeeze. “Not that I don’t love eating diner or pub food, but I know you and Sammy have to rely on that a lot, and I imagine that you’ve never been to a proper steakhouse before.”

Dean shook his head. “Not really. At least not the fancy schmancy stuff you’re hinting at.”

“Then let me spoil you and the boys, and let you have this moment. There’s a lot to celebrate, after all.”

“I guess it’s also your farewell dinner,” Dean pointed out.

“A farewell for now.” Castiel finally turned around to look at Dean. “I’m coming back, Dean, and I need to hear you say that you know that, and that… and that you’re willing to wait for me.”

“Of course I’ll wait for you,” Dean said confidently, but Castiel didn’t seem fooled.

“But do you believe that I’ll return?”

Dean frowned, but didn’t respond.

Castiel’s hand on his knee felt heavier. “Dean, I don’t want you to wait because you feel like you have no other options. I need you to know that I’ll be trying my hardest to get back to you.”

“I don’t doubt that, I just know that things never go the way you expect them. Sometimes it’s good, like how you were supposed to go home five days ago, and sometimes it sucks.” Dean studied Sam’s sleeping face, seeing the hints of John’s features, and the delicate touches that were Mary’s. “My parents were supposed to have their happily ever after, but all they got were seven years.”

Dean patted his hand over Castiel’s. “Maybe I am just a pessimist, but I see myself as a realist. I _know_ you want to get back to me, but I’m not going to hold it against you when you can’t.”

“ _If_ ,” Castiel argued.

Dean didn’t have the willpower to argue back, because he wanted to believe that Castiel, through pure stubbornness and determination, could beat the odds and win them their happily ever after. “Okay, if.”

Neither one dared to speak after that, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, just one they didn’t want to break. If they didn’t speak, they wouldn’t have to talk about what they were going to do tomorrow, and how they were going to have to say their goodbyes. They wouldn’t have to bring up the three omegas that Castiel would be meeting, one of whom could easily be another true mate contender for Castiel.

Dean had only known Castiel for less than a week, so it wouldn’t be hard for another true mate to usurp his position in Castiel’s heart. All they would need was more than a week of Castiel’s time, which wouldn’t be hard to get, especially not when their families were pushing for a quick marriage.

They also didn’t need to talk about the secrets that both of them were clearly hiding, but neither one really wanted to press for. Dean had to admit that he was curious as to why Castiel never talked about his father, or the family business. Dean also knew Castiel was loaded but Dean had no idea if that was just because his mother had amazing life insurance, or if his family was part of the Upper Class.

Instead of breaking the silence, they both continued to survey their peaceful surroundings, and Dean’s eyes kept wandering back over to the slumbering Sammy. The hush was only broken by Dean’s chuckle when he noticed a swarm of butterflies land on Sam’s head.

“They probably think he’s just a giant mound of grass,” Dean explained, snickering as he watched a pair climb up and down his brother’s arms without the teen noticing.

“Grass?”

“Right, only family can smell the unpresented. Sammy smells like fresh-cut grass.”

“Interesting, so he really can go either alpha or beta,” Castiel observed.

Alphas usually smelt like nature, and betas had a clean smell. Sometimes the two smells intermixed, and it wasn’t until the alpha musk came in that one could tell the difference.

“Yeah,” Dean said, his mood souring a bit. “Probably why I’m so nervous about how he’ll present.”

“My family was the same way. They could smell the rain on me, but not the lightning, so they were worried I would be a beta.”

Dean let out a weak laugh. Of course the wealthy would be concerned about their kid not being an alpha; they didn’t have as much to fear about them going overseas. To the wealthy, alphas brought back glory and high positions.

“Do you… have a preference as to how you want Sam to present?”

“If he was a beta, he’d be safer,” Dean whispered. “Alphas from our class… they almost never make it back home. Hell, and the ones that do come back messed up.”

Dean shuddered as he remembered what happened when Gordon returned. He was a nice enough kid when they went to school together, but ever since he returned he had been more hostile, to the point where he had been banned for life from the Roadhouse for causing too many bar fights. The guy especially had it out for Dean, and there were nights where Dean had to keep a kitchen knife under the counter as a safety measure.

Castiel shifted his hand so that he was holding Dean’s in a tight but comforting grip. “I have enough connections to get Sam into a more secure position, if that is what you are concerned about. I can’t promise him the exact position I had at his age, but that is only because I don’t think he’d be interested in the Air Force. However, I will make sure that he has the equivalent in whatever branch of the military he wants.”

Dean looked at Castiel, stunned. “You have that kind of power?”

“I have a lot more influence than you realize, and I would use every bit of it to make sure that your brother returns home to you,” Castiel swore.

Dean relaxed, but had to force himself to not start trembling in relief. “Thank you, Cas. Hell, this conversation might all be for nothing, but… fuck, at least I know that he’d be safe. Or as safe as you can be in a warzone.”

Castiel did almost die six times in his eight years, despite his status, but decided that Dean didn’t need to be reminded of those details.

“I will do everything in my power to make sure Sam has the protection he deserves,” Castiel promised.

“You do have a habit of taking good care of him,” Dean admitted.

“That’s because I know that also takes care of you.” Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand. “I want… I _need_ to take care of both of you.”

Dean wished that they weren’t in public because the temptation to drag Castiel in and kiss him senseless was strong. It wasn’t fair that the alpha was the one always surprising him, or making his brain feel like a pile of omega mush. Dean needed to return the favor one day and make Castiel flustered.

Instead, all Dean could do was stare at Castiel’s side profile, completely in awe that this alpha had come into their lives, and desperately hoping that he wouldn’t be yanked away from them like every other good thing in their lives. “We’re lucky to have you, Cas. And I don’t mean because of your money and shit, but because it’s _you_. Someone that cares about us, and is willing to stand by our side.”

Castiel smiled and said, “I know you don’t care about me for my money and status. Trust me, I have long since learnt the signs of people who are only after my prestige. It’s truthfully why I like the excuse to spoil you, because you don’t expect the lavish treatment.”

“You just want to butter me up so I say yes to the steak dinner and fancy hotel.”

Castiel laughed. “You do make it unnecessarily hard to spoil you. It’s much easier to just already pay for everything in advance, and make sure that it’s nonrefundable so that you have to use it.”

“Is that why there aren’t any tags or receipts for our clothes?” Dean traced a hand down his dark green shirt, and smirked when he realized the way Castiel’s eyes lingered.

“I--” Castiel swallowed and looked away. “I knew you would feel like you had to repay me the exact amount, or worse, try to return the clothes so I would get the credits back. I wanted you both to keep the clothes, especially for the next time I want to take you out somewhere fancy.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine, but you can’t bring us any Christmas presents when you visit.”

Castiel pouted, like Dean had cancelled Christmas in general. “Fine, but your birthdays are fair game. When is yours?”

“January 24th, but that follows the part of the month when I’m real busy, and Sam’s is May 2nd.” Dean knew there was no point in hiding it from Castiel, and just hoped the alpha wouldn’t go overboard. “But you have to share when yours is as well. I know it has to be in September if you’re part of the November return team.”

“September 18th, and all I expect from you as a birthday gift is a home-cooked meal and a birthday cake.” Castiel smiled. “Sam mentioned you’re a pretty good baker, and I would love to have a Dean Winchester original.”

Dean snorted and said, “I mean, I’m decent, but you must have had fancy cakes all your life. I can’t compete with that.”

“Correct, we always had an expensive cake, but it was always for appearance. Our cake was a piece of art, and wasn’t meant to taste good.” Castiel paused. “Not that it deterred Gabriel; he could eat cardboard if it was coated in enough frosting.”

Dean made a face. “Well, my cake will be cardboard-free, but it might have alcohol in it.”

Castiel looked puzzled.

“It burns off,” Dean assured him. “But everything I know about baking comes from Ellen, and almost every recipe has either a whiskey icing or something in it.”

“Whiskey… icing?” a sluggish voice asked from the sleeping mound across from them. “Wait… did Ellen ever give us our whiskey brownies?”

“No, but that’s because somebody had to get surgery and Ellen and Jo stress-ate them,” Dean fake-grumbled. “But Ellen promised a new batch after your first day back at school.”

“Mmm, brownies,” Sam mumbled.

“If you’re hungry then get your ass up. Once we finish exploring the exhibit, we can go grab dinner. Cas is paying and it's the good shit.”

“So… cheeseburgers?” Sam snarked. “That’s the only thing you eat.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t say I’m picking,” Dean reminded him before getting out of his seat and turning around to find Garth. “Gangly Two! You got enough pictures yet?”

“More can never hurt, but I’m satisfied with what I have!” Garth said cheerfully, slowly meandering over towards them.

“Well, I still want to take a loop around the building,” Sam complained, getting up and dislodging some of the butterflies that had been clinging onto him in the process. “Huh?”

Castiel and Dean snickered at the boy’s confusion, only making Sam turn around to glare at them. The image was made funnier by the fact that a butterfly was still crawling through his hair.

“Didn’t you know, Sammy? You’re a Disney princess!” Dean loudly proclaimed.

“Shut up!”

“I’m serious, first your luscious locks, and now you’re attracting wild animals.” Dean gestured at the butterflies that were lingering around Sam’s bench.

“I need to take pictures of this!” Garth proclaimed before his camera flash went off way too close to Sam’s face.

“Gah! Garth, you’re going to blind me with that light!” Sam complained as he shielded his damaged eyes.

“Okay, Garth, not so close, and no more flash,” Dean said, reluctantly getting up from his seat. “Let’s finish sightseeing and then get the heck out of here.”

Dean started ushering the boys forward, but stopped when he smelt embarrassment coming from Castiel. “Cas?” Dean turned around and noticed that the alpha hadn’t moved, and his face was red.

“I… I can’t seem to get up,” Castiel said sheepishly, though Dean could see shame in his eyes as well. “I think I was sitting for too long, and the seat is too low.”

“You’re getting old, man,” Dean teased, but made sure to project affection in his scent. “Here, let me help you up. Only fair since I injured you.”

“You didn’t injure me. A bullet from a Yugoslavian soldier did this to me,” Castiel informed him, before offering his hands to Dean to help pry him up. His blue eyes widened in surprise with how quickly Dean was able to get him upright, but Dean ignored his questioning gaze.

“Come on.” Dean shifted Castiel’s arms to go around his shoulders so that he could fully support his weight. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

They slowly weaved in between all of the flowers, listening as Castiel gave a brief summary on the plants they saw. Caterpillars ate different types of plants than their butterfly forms, and Castiel took great pleasure in explaining the importance of the milkweed plant to the caterpillar life cycle. It was information that should have been boring, but Castiel spoke with so much enthusiasm that it actually held Dean’s attention. And Dean was never the best student.

It was a shame that alphas were not encouraged to be teachers. At least, not young alphas, as the belief was that they had too much testosterone and alpha-sterone for them to be a good fit for the classroom. They supposedly didn’t have the patience to teach the material well, which was a load of bull.

Castiel deserved better. They all did.

“And on that note, we seem to have reached the end of the exhibit,” Castiel said, and Dean zoned back into the conversation. “Although, Sam, you’re going to need to tell your friend that he needs to go back home.”

“Huh?” Sam cast a confused glance at Garth. “But we were his ride!”

Dean snickered, noticing the hitchhiker on the back of Sam’s head. “Not that friend. The tinier guy.”

Sam shot Dean a confused look before Dean gestured to the back of his head. Sam carefully carded his fingers through his hair, forcing the butterfly that was hanging around to move. Instead of flying away, though, it crawled right over Sam’s forehead.

Castiel joined Dean’s chuckles now, and Garth was once again snapping pictures of Sam.

“Is a butterfly on me again?” Sam tried to look up, but the insect was out of his line of sight.

“Yep, looks like it’s the same guy who took a nap with you earlier,” Dean explained.

“Unfortunately he can’t go any further. The late autumn weather would kill him,” Castiel added.

“You heard them. Shoo.” Sam tried to gently flick the butterfly away, but only succeeded in making it climb down onto his nose. Sam went cross-eyed trying to look at it, and huffed in exasperation. “I am trying to save your life here!”

Castiel snickered at Sam’s outrage, and Dean joined in. The alpha’s amusement was filling Dean’s nose, making everything that much funnier, and Castiel leaned deeper into Dean as he shook with laughter.

Sam sputtered in indignation and glared at them, the butterfly on his nose slowly crawling around as if it didn’t have a care in the world. “This isn’t funny!”

“You’re right, Sam,” Dean tried to say seriously, but his lips were twitching too much to pull it off. “That’s because it’s fucking hilarious.”

“More like you’re hysterical,” Sam complained, and the butterfly flapped its wings as if it agreed. The sudden movement must have confused Sam, because suddenly he went cross-eyed again.

For some reason, that made the situation even funnier to Castiel, as he started howling with mirth, and Dean was powerless against that surge of merriment and amusement that was coming off of Cas. The only thing Dean could do was laugh louder and harder, to the point where both he and Castiel were laughing so hard that there were tears in their eyes.

****

“God, I needed that,” Dean said, once he could finally catch his breath. “I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in years.”

“I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard _ever_ ,” Cas confided.

“Well if you’re done making fun of me, can you at least get this butterfly off of my nose!” Sam demanded.

“I’ll get him for you,” Garth volunteered, giving Cas and Dean the chance to regain their bearings. Garth barely got a foot within Sam’s view before the butterfly took off, much to the smaller boy’s disappointment.

“Don’t take it personally, Garth,” Dean said with a smirk. “We can’t all be princesses.”

“Dean, I swear I will hurt you,” Sam threatened.

“What’cha going to do? Summon all of your animal friends to attack me?” Dean teased.

Castiel ignored the two brothers bickering, and looked at Garth. “Dean does have a point. Not the princess part, but the fact that you shouldn’t feel bad about Sam being chosen over you. His true scent is just closer to their preferred foliage.”

“What?!” Sam whirled around to glare at Cas.

“Not his fault you smell like grass.” Dean shrugged, accidentally shifting Cas as he did. “Now come on before the rest of the exhibit tries to follow you out.”

Despite Sam’s outward annoyance, Dean could smell only positive scents from him, making him even more pleased.

This really had been a great day for them, and Dean never wanted it to end.


	27. Sunday Morning

The previous day had been perfect, much better than Castiel had dared to hope. There had been some bumps during their trip to the botanical garden, but Castiel felt like they needed to happen for them to get to where they are now. Afterwards he took them out to a lavish dinner, and watched in pride as Dean and Sam ate to their hearts’ content. He even managed to get Dean to eat some of his grilled asparagus, so the man didn’t just eat red meat. The day ended with them heading toward the 5-star hotel he had rented for them; Sam and Garth had been ecstatic to find out that he had rented them the room across the hall from him and Dean, and that room service was included.

He had offered that they could all watch a movie in the suite he had rented for himself and Dean, but the younger boys had declined. Castiel couldn’t blame them for wanting some time away from Sam’s guardian, and he was secretly relieved that he didn’t need to entertain them.

Castiel very much wanted to monopolize his time with Dean while he had the chance.

Not that the two of them got to do much, or talk more like he had anticipated. Instead, they had found a movie to watch, and Castiel had fallen asleep before the climax of the story.

How Castiel woke up the next morning was an even better experience than the previous day. Once again he was surrounded by the delicious smell of apple ambrosia, and all he wanted to do was bury his nose into the scent.

This time, he knew exactly where the scent was coming from.

“You smell delicious,” he sighed, nosing along Dean’s neck and jawline to find his scent gland. “Absolutely perfect.”

Dean’s neck vibrated against Castiel’s nose and lips as Dean chuckled in appreciation. “You smell pretty good too.”

Castiel’s face flushed; he hadn’t expected Dean to be cognizant this early. “You’re awake?”

“Yeah, have been for a while. I was going to go back to my bed, but… you were barnacled to me.”

Castiel’s face grew warmer, and he buried his face deeper against Dean’s neck, making himself appear even more dependent on the other man.

_“Dependency is a weakness, Castiel. And alphas cannot afford to be weak,”_ his father always said.

Castiel knew this, but he couldn’t resist the instincts to let himself melt into Dean, to seek his comfort and his approval.

Dean must have picked up the subtle change to his scent, and instead of wrestling Castiel away from him, he pulled him in closer. “Not that I mind. It’s pretty comfortable like this.”

“It is,” Castiel agreed. “Makes me not want to get up.”

“Me neither, but you _do_ have a flight to catch.”

Castiel screwed his eyes shut tight, wishing that he could just cut ties with his family and not have to go back. Or at least go back to his family for a visit, not to be hoisted off to a wealthy omega to “strengthen” the bloodline. He was the fourth son, why did it even matter for him to have progeny? It wasn’t like Lucifer and Michael didn’t already have children of their own to carry on the name.

“What time should we get you to the airport?” Dean asked, snapping Castiel from his thoughts.

“Depends on what time your work shift begins,” Castiel responded, lifting his head so he could study Dean’s face.

Dean shot him a confused look. “Don’t you have to be at the airport at least an hour early?”

“Yes, but if my family is really that desperate for me to come home, then they can go send their own private jet to get me,” Castiel growled.

But then Castiel would never hear the end of it, and would be dragged away like a misbehaving child.

“I can take the 2:45 pm flight, or the 4:30 pm flight,” Castiel finally explained.

Dean stared up at the ceiling as he tried to schedule everything in his head. “Okay, how about we head towards the airport around 1:30, and go find a diner nearby to grab lunch? Once we’re done eating and digesting we can drop you off and then head straight to Ellen’s. Luckily Garth’s parents are picking him up, and Sam and Jo can hang out together during my shift.”

“Does Ellen need you there by a specific time?”

“The bar doesn’t open until 6, but she said as long as I’m on the clock by 8 I’ll be good.” Dean smirked. “Hell, I think she wanted this vacation for us more than we did.”

Castiel would never stop being grateful that Dean had bosses that cared so much about his well being. “That sounds perfect. Do you have any other plans of what you want to do until then?”

Dean gave him a shy smile and said, “Honestly? There’s a million things I should be doing right now, but all I want to do is stay in bed for a while longer.”

Castiel smiled back so wide that he could feel his gums being exposed to the air. “That sounds like the perfect way to spend the morning.”

Dean chuckled. “Fine, but I do still have to do a quick workout and take a long shower before we can go out.”

Castiel studied Dean, and Dean shifted nervously under his gaze. “I could work out with you. Or at least alongside you, as I should be doing my yoga routine.”

“Yoga?” Dean looked at him curiously, but luckily didn’t point out that it was an exercise that was popular with omegas.

“Yes, it helps with the injuries I sustained, and was also a good way to stretch out muscles before I had to go onto the field. Being in a fighter jet for so many hours can really cramp and strain your muscles.”

Dean frowned. “How is your knee doing?”

Castiel wrapped the leg with said knee around Dean so he could see for himself that the mobility was back. That and it was an excuse to be even closer. “Much better. Fortunately, alpha healing fixed the luxation. The yoga is to try to limit the amount of times the injury reoccurs.”

Dean’s frown faded into a relieved smile. “Good. Didn’t need your folks to be worried if you came back home with a limp.”

“I don’t think my family is capable of worrying,” Castiel said. “That requires a level of care that they don’t possess.”

Dean flinched. “It’s really that bad?”

“My father didn’t have children, he had heirs to continue the family legacy,” Castiel said coldly. “I don’t have siblings, or at least not with my alpha brothers. They’re just competition.”

“What about Gabriel?” Dean asked, after having heard so many stories about him.

“From what I gathered in his letters, Gabriel ran far away from home, and since he’s a beta, no one cared enough to retrieve him.”

Dean made a face. “They don’t care what he does because he’s a beta?”

“My father doesn’t care because he doesn’t _need_ a beta son,” Castiel corrected. “A beta son can’t hold the power he wants his sons to have, and his chances of having alpha children is greatly reduced.”

One of the reasons why alpha-omega pairings were considered necessary among the elite was because there was a stronger chance of having an alpha son over a beta son. In theory, an uninterrupted line of alpha-omega pairs would result in only alpha sons or omega daughters, but there was always that 1% chance of having beta children. Or the reverse, a beta family having an alpha son or an omega daughter.

With Dean’s father being a beta and his mother an omega, there was a 50/50 shot of their sons being either designation, which explained Dean’s concern about not knowing Sam’s designation. Though Castiel had some concerns about Dean’s own.

Castiel closed his eyes and scented Dean, his mouth almost salivating at the delicious sweet smell. “Is this what you really smell like?” Castiel whispered low.

Dean tensed, before nodding. “My… showers wash away most of the scent. I _can’t_ smell too strong.”

Castiel wondered why Dean’s true scent was so sweet, and his mind whirled with theories. The most logical one was that Dean must have been born with some mutation that made him smell sweet like an omega, and to avoid ridicule he dampened his scent. It would explain why even Colette had scented omega off of Castiel.

However, Castiel doubted that Dean was a beta, despite his badge. Besides his scent there were too many things that didn’t correlate with beta physiology.

The first was that Dean could smell as well as Castiel. It took some time to notice it, but Dean reacted to smells much faster than a beta should, and even picked up emotional scents.

Second, Dean was _strong_. Dean had been able to carry Cas around like he weighed nothing, and towards the end of the day Castiel purposely made himself dead weight to see if Dean would even notice. He didn’t, and continued to practically carry Castiel around with only one hand. Not to mention the fact that Dean had been able to tackle Castiel in the first place, and injured him enough to pop out his kneecap, all the more impressive because Castiel had been doing his best to be evasive and was tapping into his own alpha speed to guarantee distance. It shouldn’t have been possible for Dean to pull that off unless he had tapped into similar speeds.

Castiel didn’t want to think of Dean as being deceptive, but all signs pointed to the fact that Dean was really an alpha. The more Castiel mulled it over, the more logical it seemed, even with his previous theory. Dean’s mutation might have resulted in a hormonal deficiency with alpha-sterone. The low levels might have altered Dean’s scent, and also provided a false negative during his alpha test. Dean might not even be capable of going into a rut, which also skewed his results.

Castiel wanted to know why Dean or his father didn’t come forward when they noticed he exhibited other alpha abilities—the kind that made alphas valuable for warfare. Then Castiel realized in growing horror what that would mean for him. Dean would have been shipped off to war, leaving a fourteen-year-old Sam behind with their alcoholic father, and potentially dying on the front lines. If not war, then doctors and scientists would be pricking and prodding him for samples and scans until they figured out what made him so different.

Dean never would have had a normal life with his family, and Castiel never would have met him.

Castiel clung tighter to Dean, vowing that he would do everything in his power to keep Dean safe and to make sure that no one knew what he really was.

“You okay there, Cas?” Dean asked. His tone was concerned, but his scent was full of fear.

“Yes, I just realized that I should shower after you, and I should enjoy this scent while it lasts,” Castiel whispered. It was technically the truth, and Castiel did have every intention of rubbing around that scent until Dean kicked him away.

To his relief, Dean’s scent went back to being sweet, and he hugged Castiel tighter. “Then I guess there’s nothing wrong with us lazing around in bed for the next hour.”

Castiel really wanted to kiss Dean, but knew that if he finally knew what he tasted like then he’d never be able to return home.

Dean was the forbidden apple and Castiel knew that just one bite would change his world, but the cost would cause him to be cast out forever.

And Castiel had too much to do before he could let that happen.


	28. Unhappy Reunions

Castiel stared at his reflection, and hated who was staring back at him. The man before him was clean shaven, had his hair gelled down so that not a stray lock could flee, and he was wearing Tier 6 clothing for the first time in eight years. Clothes that had purposely been tailored so they clung to his skin as if sewn through his dermis.

The more he studied this reflection, the more it alienated him from the person he was back in Kansas. Cas—although well off—had just been a normal man sightseeing the countryside. He wasn’t regarded as his designation, but as a person. Cas got to experience new things and meet interesting people.

Cas got to fall in love, and see a glimpse of the family he wanted to be a part of.

But the person looking back at him was not Cas. He wasn’t even Castiel, the war veteran.

He was Prince Castiel, the youngest son of King Charles.

Castiel had the strong urge to smash the mirror to splinters, and only a loud knock on his bedroom door prevented him from turning that fantasy into a reality.

“What is it!” Castiel snapped, forcing himself to turn away from the wretched image.

“No need for such an attitude, Castiel,” a familiar woman’s voice chided him. “There are still many preparations to deal with, and I can’t perform any of them from the other side of the door.”

Castiel was tempted to lock his door to make a point, but he had a feeling that she would just unlock it anyway with her skeleton key. “You may come in, Naomi.”

Although the omega that walked into his room was familiar, she was also different. The perfectly pressed gray suit was the same, as was the stringent smell of her grapefruit odor, but there were more wrinkles on her face, and she was no longer sporting a fiery auburn bun, but short, white hair. However, even with the added years, the omega still walked around like she was a force to be reckoned with. And she was.

The woman had started out as a nanny for the twins when they were still babies, got promoted to a governess by the time Gabriel was born, and earned the position of a personal handler of the princes by the time Castiel was ten. She was easily the most powerful omega of the country, including the queen.

“Funny, I was expecting that you would have been taller by now,” she commented, eyeing Castiel like he was a piece of art at an auction.

“You can blame His Majesty for my shorter stature,” Castiel grumbled. “Now what is it that you want?”

“The King wanted to remind you to apply this.” Naomi reached into her pocket and pulled out an atomizer perfume bottle.

Castiel made a face. “He wants me to wear enhancers?”

“It’s tradition,” Naomi argued. “By enhancing your natural scent, your omegas will be able to scent you better, and it will be easier to detect a scent bond.”

A scent bond back in Kansas would be what he and Dean had; something so special that it felt like the universe was screaming at them that they were perfect for each other. It was something the protagonists of every romance book and movie longed for: the connection to their missing half.

But that wasn’t what Naomi or his family had in mind. To them, a scent bond was all about fertility, and the woman who could provide the family with the strongest progeny.

Naomi also didn’t mention the fact that with an enhancer, they would be able to pick up on every little nuance that went through Castiel’s head, and that it would enhance his instincts and make him more susceptible to choosing one of the three omegas as his mate.

For the first time, Castiel was grateful that he had scrubbed off Dean’s scent from his body, as he didn’t know what the enhancer would do with the additional scent.

“Do you trust me to spray myself, or are you planning on doing it?” Castiel asked, resigned.

Naomi’s lips twitched, whether to smile or frown, Castiel didn’t know. “It will be quicker if I do it.”

Castiel straightened and exposed his neck to her, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling as he just wished that this night was over. That these next few months were over.

All he wanted to do was go back to Kansas.

Castiel refrained from twitching at the cold spray of the enhancer, but he had to hold his nose once he caught the magnified scent of himself. He smelt of burning ozone and putrid water. Even Naomi had to cover her nose.

“Get a hold of yourself, Castiel,” she admonished. “You are meeting your future mate, not being sent to execution.”

Castiel’s heart disagreed, and the stench grew stronger.

“You’re too old to be having a tantrum!”

“I’m also too old for you and my father to dictate everything that goes on in my life,” Castiel snipped. “I was happy in Kansas, but none of you could let me have more than a few days of reprieve. Instead, you had to use the systems to scold me like some misbehaving child.”

“Perhaps if you would stop acting like one—”

“I stopped being a child the moment the government put an M16 rifle in my hand,” Castiel growled, the burning ozone stench getting stronger. “I’m not the teenage boy you remember, Naomi.”

Naomi was nonplussed by the angry alpha in the room, and instead made a face at Castiel as if she had taken a big bite out of a grapefruit. “If you’re an adult, then get yourself under control and join your family in the ballroom.”

Castiel had enough maturity not to slam the door shut behind her when she finally left. Instead he closed his eyes and forced himself to meditate until he could no longer smell the malodor of his despair.

When he got to the ballroom, he wasn’t expecting to be attacked by an omega the minute he opened the door.

“Oh my gosh, it’s really you! I’ve been looking forward to this day for so long!” a cheerful and familiar voice screeched before the owner untangled herself from Castiel. Her scent was like cotton candy, so sweet that it made his teeth ache.

Castiel took a step back and took in the woman before him. She looked to be around his age, and he wondered for a moment if she was one of his intendeds before he caught sight of the giant crown on her dirty blonde head, and her Tier 7 clothes. This was Queen Rebecca.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” Castiel said numbly, uncomfortable at the fact that this woman who could have been his classmate was now his stepmother.

“Have to say, I was disappointed that I had to cancel the welcome home party.” With that line, Castiel realized why her voice was so familiar. She was the new announcer for the government. “But I’m just glad that we get to have this now. Oh, and each of your omega candidates are so lovely, I really think you’ll hit it off with all of them.”

Castiel didn’t have anything nice to say about the subject, and just nodded instead.

“Don’t let me hold you up, come in. Come in,” the queen said before all but throwing him further into the room.

Castiel could feel all eyes of the room’s occupants on him. He only recognized three of the guests, while seven other strangers looked on. His father and the twins were on the right side of the ballroom, dressed in more expensive finery than Castiel, and each had a crown adorning their head.

“Castiel, my son,” the King proclaimed, offering a smile that seemed practiced, and made no move to get closer to him. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Father,” Castiel said politely as he approached the group. He didn’t add that it was good to be home, knowing that everyone would smell the lie if he did. “You are looking well, as are you Michael, and Lucifer.”

“Why does that sound like a polite way of saying we look old,” Lucifer teased, slowly swirling the wine in the glass in his hand.

“Not old, though everyone here is eight years older than I remember,” Castiel reminded him. “A lot has changed in that time.”

“Tell me about it. Besides the wrinkles, we’ve had three weddings, three baby showers, and a funeral.” Lucifer took a giant gulp of his wine, while Michael watched in disdain.

“Speaking of weddings, I want you to meet my mate,” Michael said, turning away from Lucifer to look at the beautiful brunette on his left. “This is Duma, mother of my children, Samandriel and Hael.”

Duma gave him a polite smile and a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Castiel bowed in turn. “Likewise, and welcome to the family. It is nice to see that Michael has chosen well for himself.”

“Indeed.” Michael smirked and looked at Duma like she was a prize before turning his attention to Castiel. “I trust my omega candidate for you will also be to your liking.”

Castiel doubted it, as the only potential mate he was interested in was Dean. “I appreciate your… attentiveness.”

Lucifer snorted. “Daphne’s definitely attentive, as well as boring. My candidate is at least interesting.”

Michael glared at Lucifer, but before he could say anything, their father spoke up. “The ladies and their families have waited long enough. Let the introductions commence, starting with Daphne.”

Castiel had to keep a tight rein on his emotions so that his annoyance didn’t seep through as they crossed the other side of the room to where the omegas were chatting with their families while pretending that the other candidates didn’t exist. Michael gestured for an omega with short brown hair in an elegant purple dress to step forward, and she smiled gratefully at the fact that she was chosen first.

She practically ran over towards Castiel, and delivered an overzealous curtsy that almost caused her to topple over. “It’s an honor to finally meet you, your Highness. I’m Daphne.”

“Daphne Allen,” Michael explained. “Twenty-three, and has been using her omega volunteer hours working in the church. She’s a woman of faith and virtue, making her a very loyal and devoted future wife.”

Daphne blushed and continued to smile as Castiel’s stomach turned. It sounded like his brother was trying to sell her as a commodity, instead of treating her as a person. He almost jumped when Lucifer slapped him on the back to get his attention.

“Don’t be shy. Go and get a big whiff of her, and then you can meet my candidate for you,” Lucifer said, before thrusting Castiel forward.

Daphne offered her neck **—** a perfect model of submission—and waited for him to scent her. As much as Castiel resented it, he went over and sniffed her. Daphne smelt like fresh cranberries, sweet with a bit of tartness, but it made Castiel’s nose wrinkle and his tongue feel numb. He offered his neck in turn, but she was frowning as she scented him, clearly smelling the disinterest he had.

“It was nice meeting you,” Castiel said after an awkward beat, before scurrying to the next candidate. He didn’t dare look at Daphne’s face as her scent spoiled from rejection and disappointment.

Lucifer’s candidate was a long-haired ginger, wearing a bright yellow dress that left nothing to the imagination. Some families believed in showcasing an omega’s assets in order to achieve a high-ranking match, and this omega showed it off with confidence. Both his father and Lucifer seemed to be appreciating her choice in outfit, but Castiel felt uncomfortable at his gaze straying past her face.

“This enchanting lady is April Kelly,” Lucifer introduced. “She’s beautiful, sweet, and has dedicated her free time to helping out in soup kitchens for the unfortunate. One can say she’ll know how to _serve_ her alpha well.”

April eagerly lifted her head and Castiel almost choked at her smell. She smelt like grapes, but there was an artificial sweetness to her scent, like cheap jelly. The whole taste of her clogged his throat and made him want to gag.

Castiel quickly stepped away from her, his hand covering his nose and mouth in a desperate attempt to keep her scent away from him. He didn’t even bother offering her his neck.

“Unfortunately, I think that’s a no on your candidate, Lucifer,” Michael said, smirking slightly.

“He didn’t seem so fond of your choice either!” Lucifer snapped.

“Boys, this isn’t a competition. This is about ensuring that Castiel has the perfect match, and that we can unite two great families,” King Charles—or Chuck as he preferred to be called among nobility—announced, before turning apologetically towards the Kellys. “My apologies, but I don’t think you’re scent compatible after all. I suggest you leave now so the air can clear out.”

“This is ridiculous,” April complained, sniffing away tears as she angrily put on the coat her mother handed over to her. “The matchmaker said that we _were_ scent compatible! We flew all this way for nothing.”

“April,” her father scolded, looking horrified.

“Yes, well, scent compatibility isn’t an exact science, and accidents do happen,” Chuck said dismissively. “Now either you leave willingly, or our guards will escort you out.”

April turned red in a mixture of anger and embarrassment, before walking briskly away towards the door. Castiel was surprised that nobody slammed the doors behind them.

“Castiel, once your nose is cleared, I’d like to introduce you to my candidate, Hannah Carrol.” Chuck waved over the omega with black hair and sapphire eyes.

Hannah wore a silver off-the-shoulder dress that clung to her body like it was painted on, but it was still more modest than the dress April had worn. She curtsied perfectly, leading Castiel to believe that she was a member of nobility herself, instead of just coming from a wealthy family.

“Hannah comes from an old, powerful lineage of nobility. She was top of her class at her omega finishing school, and has been dedicating her hours to working at a children’s daycare. She exemplifies grace and serenity, is an intelligent omega, and already has experience raising children. She would make an excellent wife and mother,” Chuck explained.

Hannah’s face remained blank as his father talked about her accomplishments. She looked like she wanted to be here as little as Castiel did.

“Has your nose cleared yet, Castiel?” Chuck asked.

Numbly, Castiel removed his hand from his face and gave an experimental sniff. He could still make out traces of the grape stench, but it wasn’t overpowering like it was before. “It is as clear as it is going to be.”

“Right, then. Hannah, if you will?” Chuck instructed, and Hannah timidly raised her neck.

Castiel wished he could apologize to her, but knew this wasn’t the place to do so. Instead, he carefully approached her so that she was aware of his movements the entire time. He was surprised when the first scent he got off of her was a floral honey.

For a moment he smelt the sweet ambrosia that made all of his instincts both happy and possessive. It was the scent of his mate, and his mouth started to water at the thought of tasting that honey again.

Only for him to be jolted when his mind realized that it wasn’t the correct ambrosia smell. His ambrosia was apple and honey, while this was just a mediocre impersonator. It took every bit of control Castiel had not to angrily growl at not only Hannah, but anyone else who was not his true mate and dared to even look at him.

He needed Dean.

“I need some fresh air,” he begged his father, and sprinted out the door before he got permission. He couldn’t stay in that room a second longer.

Castiel kept running and running until he was outside in the gardens and collapsed when he reached the steps of the gazebo.

He wished he had his phone on him, but knew that he couldn’t have called Dean even if he did. Not only was Dean still in the midst of work, but Castiel didn’t want his father to hack his phone to find out who he ran to for comfort. The Winchesters didn’t need any more attention from his family.

Instead, he looked out into the garden and tried to see how many different plants Joshua had growing in this area, and what was new. Once that was pinpointed, he tried to recreate what this spot looked like eight years ago so he could pick up on every little difference. He kept trying to keep his mind off of Dean and Sam, but it was impossible. All he could picture was what the boys would be doing if they were with him right now.

Sam would be fascinated about everything around him, demanding that Castiel take him on a tour and show him the most historical parts of the home. Sam would especially love the family library that housed row after row of law and history books, some dating back prior to the 1700s.

Dean… Dean would be uncomfortable. Everything about this place would be too lavish and too fake for him to overlook. He’d feel awkward and unwelcome and Castiel was terrified he would see it as another reason as to why they shouldn’t be together.

Castiel shuddered as he remembered Dean’s opinions on the “lost prince” and worried that Dean would feel the same way about him. That Castiel was nothing but an irresponsible, spoiled prince, and only wanted Dean because he was something new and exciting.

No, Castiel was not willing to risk that, which was why Dean couldn’t find out his lineage. Most people didn’t know anyway. His father had always been paranoid about his sons getting kidnapped and had did everything to obscure their identities from public view until they were adults. He even went so far as to use his mother’s surname, Novak, when he enlisted in the Air Force. The only person who knew about Castiel being a prince had been Balthazar and Meg, and it had taken them seven years to get the truth out of him.

One day, Castiel would tell Dean, but not until Dean was ready to hear the truth, and willing to believe that Castiel cared about him.

He knew he couldn’t wait too long, as he would be in the public eye the moment he was coordinated as a Prince and sworn into the government office.

“Castiel!” Naomi’s shriek snapped him back to the present as she hovered by the gazebo. “Enough of your sulking. You still are required to entertain your guests!”

Sighing, he brushed himself off and started heading back towards the palace, not bothering to wait for Naomi to catch up with his long strides. He would play his part for now, and keep his eyes on the small goals.

The first being able to get off around Christmas to head back to Kansas. Only once he was back with the Winchesters would Cas be alive again.


	29. The Opposite Of

**Cas (Dec. 25, 1 AM):** _**Merry Christmas!**_

Dean smiled when he saw the text, but rolled his eyes as he quickly typed out a reply before returning to cleaning up the Roadhouse.

**Dude its 2am y u up**

Instead of a text, he got a phone call. “Hello,” he greeted, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could continue cleaning the counters.

“Your texting is atrocious,” Castiel complained instead of his usual greeting.

Dean laughed. “That’s what happens when you have a crappy flip phone and are still on the clock.”

“I’m surprised Ellen is even letting you talk now.”

“Ehh, it’s the holiday, and she doesn’t have to worry about me lingering too long to break curfew. Not when her house is right behind the bar.”

“I’m glad that you and Sam are spending the holidays with the Harvelles.”

Dean scrubbed harder at a sticky smudge on the counter. “Yeah, well, I owed it to Sam. Not like John had any plans with us anyway.”

Dean had been furious when John had finally returned home two weeks after Sam’s surgery, his only excuse being that he had been busy. The man didn’t even bother asking how Sammy was doing, or how they were going to pay for the medical expenses, before passing out on the couch.

Seeing that finally cemented Dean’s resolve to distance himself and Sam from John. After all, if the man couldn’t make time for his sons, then why should Dean make time for him? So far John hadn’t commented on the fact that there were no longer meals waiting for him when he came home, and that Dean refused to do his laundry. The only reason Dean still chipped in for bills was because he didn’t want to live without utilities.

“I’m jealous. I would much prefer being with the four of you than my family.” Castiel sighed.

“That bad?” Dean asked, finally satisfied with the bar counter and moving on to the tables.

“There’s a reason I’m still awake. The thoughts of tomorrow are giving me heart palpitations.”

“I thought Gabriel was at least showing up tomorrow. Shouldn’t that make things better?”

“Better, or more stressful. Gabriel thrives on chaos, after all, and no one is spared from his torments.”

“I mean, it’s been eight years since you’ve seen him. He’s probably outgrown a lot of that shit.”

“Last year he put ghost peppers in the wine.”

“Okay, or maybe not. At least you know the day will be memorable.”

“It certainly will,” Castiel sighed. “My father also decided to invite Hannah and her parents to the festivities, which is another thing to endure.”

Dean’s stomach clenched, and he had to stop himself from growling. “At least Hannah is the least crazy candidate of the bunch.”

“Yes, and it is refreshing to see that she is no more a fan of this courtship then I am. With any luck, she can help stall this betrothal with me.”

“You guys still aren’t betrothed _yet_ , right?” Dean couldn’t help but double-check.

“To my father’s disappointment, no. But at this point, we all know it’s inevitable. She has been invited to every family function, and my father makes a point to always sit us together.”

Castiel’s clothes probably stank from that omega’s scent, pissing Dean off further. “What’s she smell like, anyway?” Dean asked.

“W-what?”

“You heard me. What does she smell like? Does she smell good?” Does she smell better than him?

“She smells like honeysuckle,” Castiel admitted.

Dean clutched his rag. “Huh, honeysuckle. You must love that smell. It’s all flowery, and is even good for the bees.”

“Dean, I’m not getting into this,” Castiel said with a sigh. “I’m not going to feed into your jealousy and self-hate. Yes, Hannah smells good, but she smells nowhere near as good as you do. You are my ambrosia scent, and you are the person I long to spend all my time with. There is no competition between you two, because you already have my heart.”

Dean sighed, slowly releasing his grip on the rag so he could finish cleaning up the table surfaces. “I know, and I know I have no right to be so… territorial. I get that you have to do this, and that there’s nothing going on between you two, but then my instincts… I don’t know, they just get a hold of me, and make me say things I don’t really mean.”

“I understand,” Castiel said. “Trust me, I have those instincts too. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to yell at my family and tell them to leave me alone because I have already found my intended. I’ve even growled at Hannah whenever she unexpectedly gets too close to my personal space.”

Dean shouldn’t feel so happy to hear that Castiel growled at the poor woman, but he did.

“The only bright side in this whole mess is that I can come down in three days’ time for a visit. That is, if you would still have my company.” Castiel sounded nervous, as if Dean could turn him down.

“That sounds perfect, buddy. Hell, even Sammy’s been looking forward to you coming back down.”

Castiel laughed. “It’s good to know that his first impression of me was not his last.”

“Nah, the kid loves you. Though don’t be surprised if he makes you read more Shakespeare for him,” Dean said with a chuckle. “I got him a bunch for Christmas.”

“I guess I should be grateful for the Christmas present ban, or else I might have gotten him a similar gift, and that would just be awkward.”

“Yeah, for me. Knowing you, you’d buy some fancy, limited-edition Shakespeare book instead of the crappy secondhand things I got,” Dean bitterly replied.

“Yes, but the gift doesn’t mean as much coming from me. Sam knows how much harder it is for you to get your hands on a copy compared to me, and for that reason your version would be the more valued one.”

Dean wasn’t so sure of that.

“Unless you are insinuating that Sam is conceited and only cares about the price of the gift...?” Castiel asked all-knowingly.

Dean groaned. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“At least you said you hate _it_ and not that you hate _me_ , seeing as how I’m always right,” Castiel teased.

“I think being back home has given you an ego.”

“Most likely,” Castiel said with a laugh. “Though I am grateful that you don’t hate me. Especially since I feel the exact opposite of hate for you.”

Dean snickered. “I feel the exact opposite of hate for you too.”

Dean could smell the phantom scent of a fresh storm, and hoped it meant that his alpha was happy.

“I miss you,” Castiel said, his tone no longer joking. “I miss you and Sam so much. You have no idea how much I wish I could just run away from my home and responsibilities to reunite with you both.”

“I know.” Dean had to swallow down the lump that was building in his throat. “I know you’re also busy interning for whatever position your dad wants you in.”

“Law,” Castiel reminded Dean. “Though I don’t think I enjoy it as much as Sam does.”

“Sam’s a weirdo,” Dean said with a shrug as he exchanged his rag for a broom. “I don’t think anyone likes law as much as Sam. I think it’s the only reason he’s hoping to be an alpha. Planning to make big changes in politics or something.”

“You can only change so much before the King has his say,” Castiel said bitterly. “And even he is a puppet to the traditions of King Carver the First.”

“Are you crazy, man?” Dean hissed. “You don’t say the K-word over the phone. That’s the easiest way for them to tap your lines.”

Castiel grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like a curse. “My apologies. I just want Sam to be aware that simply knowing how laws work will not bring immediate change.”

“I think he knows, Cas. But sometimes, you just gotta let them dream a bit.”

“I suppose it’s very hypocritical of me to denounce his dreams, when I have some of my own that are even more outlandish.”

“Oh yeah? What do you dream about, Cas?” Dean asked with a smirk.

“I’m sure you can guess, especially since part of those dreams include me going back to Kansas.” Castiel’s tone was light, and Dean could picture him smiling that dopey smile as he talked.

“Huh. You know, I think that might be the same dream I’ve been having,” Dean said coyly, before losing his grip on the phone and having it clatter to the ground. “Oops, sorry, Cas. I dropped you.”

“That’s alright, though I probably should stop distracting you from your job,” Castiel said, sounding remorseful for even bringing it up.

Dean hated it as well, but Castiel had a point. “Yeaaaah, Ellen will probably beat my ass if the bar doesn’t start shining in the next five minutes. I guess I’ll hear from you after Christmas?”

“Yes. and hopefully with more details of my trip.”

“I can’t wait to see you,” Dean said sincerely.

“I can’t either. Merry Christmas, Dean. And give Sam my holiday wishes as well.”

“I will. Merry Christmas, Cas. And sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Neither one made a move to hang up, each waiting for the other one to make the final move. Finally, after five counts of them breathing in and out, Castiel hung up on him.

Fuck, Dean had it _bad_.

“I was going to give you ten minutes before I started kicking your ass, just so you know,” Ellen said from behind Dean.

Dean’s broom clattered to the floor as he cursed. “Jesus, Ellen, did you have to sneak up behind me?”

“Do you have to use the Lord’s name in vain on His birthday?”

“Probably the best time to do it,” Dean snarked as he picked up his broom. “So... how much of that did you hear?”

“Your phone call with your buddy? All of it.” Ellen handed Dean a dustpan and took his broom from him. “But I’m not judging. I’m just happy to see you smiling, kid.”

Dean froze, only moving again when Ellen nudged his foot with the broom, prompting him to bend down with the dustpan and sweep up the dirt she’d gathered.

“It’s true, Dean. All I want is for you to be happy, and even I can admit that your city friend does a damn good job of making you exactly that.”

Dean didn’t reply, just continued tidying everything up until they were good to shut down for the night. Thankfully, Ellen didn’t bring it up again.

“Hey, before you go to bed tonight, want to help me play Santa?” Ellen asked as she slipped on her beta gray coat.

“Depends on whether or not I get milk and cookies out of the deal,” Dean teased, zipping up his own gray coat.

“I think I can arrange that.” Ellen smirked, opening the door wide for Dean.

“Then count me in.”


	30. Merry Friggin' Christmas

Christmas Day had lost its magic for the Winchesters years ago. It was hard to believe in things like Santa Claus and Christmas miracles when most of the time they woke up to a cold, empty house, with no signs of John Winchester. Other times, instead of “jolly St. Nick,” they would have their drunken father stomping around at midnight, hollering and cursing until Sammy crawled into Dean’s bed in hopes that his big brother would protect him.

Dean always felt like the biggest failure during the holidays. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t give Sam the holiday he deserved.

It really shouldn’t have been a surprise to Dean when things started to go wrong this year too. In fact, the day had started off too perfect. The brothers had both been able to sleep uninterrupted, and when they woke up it was to the sight of a giant Christmas breakfast with piles of bacon and homemade hot chocolate that was so rich that Dean didn’t want coffee. Once they waddled out of the kitchen, they were met with a real Christmas tree with a large stack of presents underneath.

Sam almost cried when he realized a chunk of those presents were for him, and not a single one of them was a pair of socks.

Dean was also shocked to see that he had his own gifts this year.

Everything began going downhill when Jo started to complain about pain in her stomach. At first she thought it was just from gorging herself on French toast, but within twenty minutes she was crumpled over in pain.

“Jo!” Ellen hollered, rushing to her daughter. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Don’t tell me she’s going through appendicitis,” Sam said worriedly.

“She’s burning up,” Ellen cried as Jo let out a pained moan.

But Dean caught a brand new scent coming off of Jo. The smell of sugary and tart pineapple. “Fuck, she’s going into heat!”

“What?” Ellen looked at Dean like he was crazy. “But Bill and I were both betas, and she’s almost eighteen now. She should have—”

“We all know from biology that betas can have an alpha or omega kid. If you don’t believe me, smell her. Her scent changed, and even your nose should pick that up.”

Ellen’s brows furrowed, but she did as he said, gasping in shock when she noticed the sweet undertones. “How—”

“Mama,” Jo whined, tears of pain running down her overheated face. “Mama, everything hurts.”

“The best thing you can do for her right now is get her in a cold bath. The colder the better. Once her fever breaks you have to get her some aspirin or ibuprofen to keep the fever down and help with the pain,” Dean instructed. “After that… shit, you’ll probably have to go to the doctor so she can get registered and get suppressants.”

“No!” Jo wailed. “I’m not… not an omega. I’m a… a beta. I _have_ to be a beta!”

Dean didn’t know what to say to her.

“Dean?” Sam croaked, and Dean whirled around to check on him. Unlike Jo, Sam’s face was stark white, but he was sweating just as heavily as her. His grass scent had gotten stronger, and much muskier. The odors of fresh-cut grass and charcoal smoke were rolling off his skin in giant waves.

“Fuck,” Dean choked out, jumping in front of Sam just in time to block Sam’s lunge. “Fuck, he’s going into his first rut.”

Dean could smell the bitter scent of Ellen’s fear as they both realized that there was nothing to stop a new alpha’s hormone-driven strength or one-track mind. Well, nothing but a stronger alpha.

Or in this case, a stronger omega.

It wasn’t hard for Dean to channel all the love he felt for Sam and use it to pin his brother in place against the floor. “Sam, you need to calm down. I know Jo smells delicious right now, but you need to ignore it!”

Sam whined and struggled harder.

“Ellen, get Jo out of here now! I’ll get Sam outside so he can clear his nose, then get his ass back home.”

There was no way they could stay with Ellen and Jo now. Even with suppressants, it would take Jo a week to get over her heat and Sam three days to get through his rut.

Hell, they might never be allowed to stay at Ellen’s again.

Dean waited until he heard Ellen’s and Jo’s footsteps fade upstairs—and for the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut and locking—before he dared to get up. Sam immediately tried to follow after Jo’s scent, but Dean grabbed him around the waist and lifted him up.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Sorry, Sam, this is for your own good,” Dean grumbled as he wrangled his brother outside and into the backseat of Baby.

“No! She smells perfect! She’s my one true—” Sam’s hormone-driven rant was cut short as Dean forced Sam’s nose right into his own scent gland.

Family scents were the best way to overpower lust instincts, and after struggling for a moment more, Sam finally gave up fighting.

“Dean?” Sam slurred, his voice sounding like he was drunk. “What’s going on?”

“Jo’s first heat set off your first rut.”

“Huh? That doesn’t—”

“Sam, alphas only go into ruts when they smell an omega—who isn’t related to them—go into heat.”

“Oh.” Sam’s voice was tired and emotionless. “Now what do we do?”

Dean knew what they should be doing. Dean should be taking Sam to a doctor immediately so they could give him his own suppressants and get him properly registered.

Registered so that in six months he’d be taken away from Dean for the next three years...if not forever.

“Dean?”

Dean thought about taking off in Baby and getting them over the border. It was a federal holiday, so security would be lighter. He had heard tales of alphas sneaking across the border to Canada to avoid the draft. Hell, maybe Canada even acknowledged the existence of male omegas.

Maybe they didn’t even care about designations and subgenders in Canada. Maybe they could live the rest of their days without stupid badges on their chests.

It would be perfect...but leaving for Canada meant never seeing Cas again. Or the Harvelles, or Bobby and Rufus. They would never have the chance to say goodbye.

And if they failed to make it, they would be executed for treason.

No.

No. As much as Dean hated it, he had to follow the law. He had to take Sam to the hospital.

“It’s going to be alright, Sam,” Dean lied. “We’ll just take you to the doctor and get this all sorted out.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“You smell like rotten apples.”


	31. Pride and Panic

Dean withheld his urge to make the phone call until after Sam was under control, until Dean was under control himself. But after the panic and fear had faded, all Dean was left with was a feeling of...nothing. It felt like someone had carved out his insides, leaving him as hollow as a jack-o-lantern, and like the mutilated pumpkin, he too was forced to wear a polite smile.

_“You must be so proud to have an alpha in your family,”_ one nurse had said.

_“I would have been proud of him no matter how he presented,”_ Dean had replied.

_“He’s going to be a large one, he is. Once the alpha-sterones kick in, he’ll end up being over six feet,”_ another nurse had pointed out.

_“He was always going to be tall. Both my dad and I are over six foot and we’re only betas,”_ Dean had said.

_“Well, he’s going to tower over you both.”_

Then there were mountains of paperwork to fill out. Mandatory things that highlighted the importance of the alpha draft, threatening that any attempts to avoid the draft would be a felony. He had to sign agreements for fingerprinting Sam, as well as having his DNA and scent on file so they could find him if he did desert.

It was only after all the forms had been signed that Sam had been returned to Dean to bring home. The bright blue _A_ on Sam’s pristine badge felt like a kick in Dean’s gut. Even Sam’s white winter coat had been replaced with a blue one, with a giant _A_ on his back so that everyone could clearly see what he was.

A literal target on all of their backs.

Buying the equipment for Sam’s rut had been an embarrassing experience for him until Dean had snapped that he was the one who had changed Sam’s diapers and given him a bath when he was little, and that picking up some rut toys was no worse than that. That and Dean’s threat that either he’d get him the supplies or they’d have to wait for John to come back from wherever and get them himself.

Sam didn’t make a fuss after that.

By nightfall, Sam had eaten enough for four and was given full privacy in the bedroom (as well as a whistle to summon Dean if he needed him) while Dean hunkered down for the night in the basement. Dean could have stayed on the sofa-bed in the living room, but he didn’t want to risk picking up any of the sounds or smells that were coming from the bedroom. That and if John came home, he didn’t want to hear him complaining about Sam stealing his bed.

Now that Dean was alone, all he could do was stare at the phone in his hands. It was late at night, and Castiel had warned him that he would be busy, and honestly Dean didn’t even know what he wanted to say.

Maybe he didn’t want to say anything. Maybe he just needed to hear the sound of his best friend’s voice.

Just listening to Cas’ voicemail couldn’t hurt.

_“Hi, this is Castiel. Please leave your voice… a mail?”_

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the silly recording, and hung up without leaving a message. He wasn’t expecting his phone to ring immediately afterwards.

_Shit_.

“Heya, Cas.” Dean swallowed, not knowing why his tongue felt so heavy, or why his eyes were starting to sting. “Sorry about that, didn’t mean to disturb—”

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Castiel asked, panicked.

“N-nothing’s wrong. Hell, I shouldn’t even be bothering—”

“Dean, you don’t have to pretend. Something is clearly upsetting you, and I want to help.”

Dean’s bottom lip trembled and he had to bite down on it to prevent a whine from escaping. Fuck, he was pathetic.

“Dean?”

“S-Sam… Sammy presented today. He’s an… he’s an alpha. They’re going… They’re shipping him out June 10th.”

Saying those words out loud seemed to give his body permission to feel again, and before he could stop it, he was sobbing on the phone. “Cas, I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him! He’s my entire fucking world. I _live_ for that kid.”

“Dean, I promised you that if Sam presented as an alpha that I would do everything in my power to keep him safe. He’s going to come home to you. It might take three years, but he’s going to make it back.”

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean tried to sound grateful, but the words were too stiff. “I just… three years is so long.”

“I know, Dean, and I’m so sorry. But I promise you that neither you nor Sam will be alone. I had a personal guard keeping an eye on me the first three years while I was overseas, and I’ll do the same for Sam. As for you, I promise to dedicate every free moment of my time to making sure you don’t have the opportunity to feel lonely.”

For some reason, Castiel’s confident words only increased Dean’s tears. “T-thanks, Cas.”

“We’ll get through this, Dean. I promise.”

“You’re promising me three years of your life; you know that, right? I’m… I’m a clingy bastard, and I’m going to always want you around.”

“Why are you phrasing that like it’s a bad thing?” Castiel’s tone was light, and Dean could picture the mischievous glint in those blue eyes. “I want more than just three years of your attention.”

“Yeah?” Dean squeaked. “Yeah, I… I’d like that too.”

“Is there anything else Sam needs? I know he’s only been surrounded by betas his whole life, so it might do him some good to talk to a real alpha.”

Dean grumbled. “A _real_ alpha? As opposed to?”

“All those alpha pamphlets I’m sure the doctor gave you.”

Dean had to admit that the pamphlets only talked about the stuff that they already knew from biology classes and his mother’s journal. Like how the first rut lasted for three days, but any other rut would either last one day if an unmated alpha picked up the smell of a random omega in heat, or a whole week if their mate was in heat. How alphas’ hearing would grow stronger as well as their sense of smell, but their eyesight would grow weaker. About their new bouts of strength and speed, as well as warning about Alpha Rage.

None of the pamphlets talked about surviving war, and what was to be expected of him.

“Yeah, he could use that,” Dean admitted.

“Did Sam decide what branch of the military he wants to join?”

“Y-yeah, he decided on the Marines. We’re hoping that since John was a star sniper that he might get more perks joining with them.”

“That definitely gives him a leg up, and should make it easier for me to get him into the position I want. It’s also a good thing he wants to go into law. I can get him into the law student military branch. They’re only on the field three days a week, studying the other three, and one day of rest. They are tested weekly to make sure that only the best stay in the program, but I have no doubt that Sam would pull it off.”

“They still have classes overseas?” Dean asked in amazement.

“Lawyers and politicians need to know a lot to properly run a courtroom or a country. You can’t expect to throw them straight into law school or a government position after a three- or eight-year war tour.”

“I guess I never really thought about it.” It wasn’t like the government was doing much for them anyway.

Castiel hummed noncommittally. “At least I can help Sam know what to expect.”

“Yeah.” Dean collapsed into his nest of blankets and sighed. “Fuck, Cas, I don’t know what we would have done if we hadn’t met you.”

“I feel similarly.” Castiel’s voice was serious as he spoke. “You two are important to me, and I don’t want you to doubt it.”

“I’ll try not to,” Dean promised, as that was the best he could do. “Hey, what are you doing now, anyway?”

“I’m feigning a migraine so I could retire to my suite for the rest of the evening. What about you?”

“I’m flopped out on the floor, waiting for sleep to claim me,” Dean said dramatically.

Castiel snickered. “Would it help if I stayed on the line with you until you fell asleep?”

“That would be pretty awesome, actually. Hey, have you made a dent in those books you bought?”

“More than a dent; I only have a couple of books to go. I must thank you for the muscle car book cover. Luc, my brother, actually commended me on reading proper alpha material for once.”

“Eh, fuck him. He’s just jealous that you have this awesome scientist mind while he doesn’t.”

“That must be it.” Castiel’s tone was warm and light, so much so that Dean could practically wrap himself in it.

“So, have any new plant stuff to tell me?”

“Did you know that the first plant appeared about 470 million years ago, but the first flowering plant didn’t appear for another 340 million years? Can you imagine how different the world would look if there were no flowering plants?”

“Yeah, people would have to come up with something else to give their girls as anniversary and apology gifts.”

“More than just that. There’s a grander ecological effect that flowering plants have on our ecosystem. For example...” Castiel continued on and on about his favorite subject, and though Dean could only process half the things he was saying, he still held onto every word.

Dean fell asleep that night with his phone pressed to his ear, a smile on his face, and the phantom smells of a storm on the lake side.


	32. The Kennels

Ellen used the excuse of the holidays to keep the bar closed for the next week, which meant that Dean’s schedule was cleared up—and his wallet empty—by the time he had to pick Cas up from the airport.

Sam had decided to accompany them, wanting the excuse to finally get out of the house now that his rut had passed. It was also amusing to watch Sam get accustomed to his new sense of smell. The whole world was different to him now that his nose was sharper, and he kept hiding his nose against Dean’s arm whenever the smells got to be too much.

“Why does this help?” Sam grumbled, his face pressed against Dean’s shirt.

“It’s the scent you’re most familiar with, the one you grew up with,” Dean explained. “It’s like a giant reset button for whenever your mind gets too overwhelmed by all the new smells.”

“Huh, is that why you were so cuddly with me? I thought it was just a…” Sam trailed off, his eyes widening as he looked suspiciously at the radio. “...a you thing.”

“Nah, I like your smell because it’s calming. Even betas and the unpresented can smell family scents.”

“Does it smell different to you now?”

“Yeah, the grass smell is sharper, not as sweet. You smell like charcoal smoke now too.”

“Like from a charcoal grill?”

“Exactly.” Dean laughed. “You smell like a suburban man’s dream. Fresh cut grass and a backyard grill.”

Sam punched his leg, but Dean could smell the amusement. It made Sam’s whole scent feel like a sunny day.

“Come on, I’m going to need you to untangle yourself from me so I can go fetch Cas and his shit.”

Sam grumbled, but complied.

“Also, be on your best behavior. This is the first time you’ll be in an enclosed space with a ‘rival alpha,’ and I need you to keep that temper down. I _cannot_ afford for you to go Alpha Rage on Baby.”

“I won’t,” Sam grumbled. “Do you really think that’s going to happen?”

“It could. Young alphas can be unpredictable,” Dean said as he repressed a shudder, once again remembering what had happened in the kennels.

Sam gave him a look. “I smelt that.”

Dean hated that he couldn’t hide things anymore.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” he promised before getting out of the car.

Dean had wondered if Castiel had really smelt as amazing as he remembered, partly convinced that his mind had made it all up because nobody could smell that perfect. Especially not with a simple scent like rainstorms and fresh lake water. But the moment Castiel was within scenting range, Dean’s entire face broke into a smile as the perfect scent washed over him again.

Fuck, he missed that smell.

Cas must have missed Dean’s scent as well, because he practically barrelled Dean over in an attempt to pull him close and hug him.

As much as Dean wanted to cling to Castiel, he knew that they shouldn’t be so touchy-feely in public. He delivered a quick series of pats on Cas’ back to let him know to get off, and then put some distance between them so it looked like a regular guy hug. “Missed you too, buddy.”

“You smell like young alpha,” Castiel pointed out.

“That’s what happens when your brother goes through second puberty,” Dean said, rolling his eyes as he reached for Cas’ suitcase.

“Yes, but his scent is coating you like he’s been clinging to you,” Castiel said, sounding confused.

Dean gave Cas a strange look. “Yeah, for grounding scents.”

Castiel still seemed confused, and Dean looked at him with wide eyes.

“Wait, did you never ground yourself with family scents when you presented?” Dean couldn’t help but sound horrified.

“That’s a thing?”

“Yeah. A good whiff of a close loved one helps clear your head from all the strong scents.” Dean was still aghast. “What did you do instead?”

“I just dealt with it.” Castiel shifted uncomfortably. “The smells were tolerable, but it was the migraines that were my biggest issue.”

Dean winced in sympathy, remembering how bad his migraines could get during the school day when Sammy wasn’t around. “Yeah, those can be brutal. Wish you had known about that trick.”

“It wouldn’t have helped anyway,” Castiel sighed. “My family isn’t close. I didn’t even know you could smell your family before you presented, because I could never smell mine.”

Dean recoiled, not knowing what it was like to be that distant from his family. Even if John was the furthest thing from a good father, at least both he and Sam were able to recognize his “new car” smell from the beginning.

“How did you guys know that trick, anyway?” Castiel asked as Dean plopped his suitcase into Baby’s trunk.

“You mean because Dad’s a beta?” Dean slammed the trunk down. “Mom came from a long line of alphas and omegas. To the point that they disowned her when she chose a beta for her mate instead of an alpha. She had all sorts of notes in her journal for dealing with presenting, and the scent trick was one of them.”

“I didn’t realize omegas would have that same problem,” Castiel admitted sheepishly.

“Omegas and alphas are a lot more similar than people give them credit for,” Dean said with a shrug. “Two halves of a whole, after all.”

“That is true…” Castiel seemed lost in thought for a moment before snapping back to attention. “Will I be riding ‘shotgun’ this round, or in the back?”

“In the back. Sorry, but Sammy needs me to be close enough to ground him. Especially since this is the first time he’s going to be smelling a ‘rival’ alpha.”

Castiel grimaced, but sat in the back seat. “Merry belated Christmas, Sam.”

Sam chuckled. “Merry belated Christmas to you. Oh, did Dean tell you where we’re going?”

Castiel seemed impressed that Sam was so relaxed, and even Dean was taken by surprise. “No, he didn’t. Will you tell me, or will I just have to wait and see?”

Sam looked to Dean for permission, and Dean just shrugged. “There’s this new burger place nearby. They have all sorts of burgers—classic, gourmet, veggie. We've been wanting to check it out for a while, but Dean said we should wait until you came back.”

“Oh, really?” Castiel sounded amused, and Dean caught a glimpse of his sparkling eyes in the rearview mirror.

“It’s nothing too fancy. I know you like burgers, and figured it would be a good treat for us all,” Dean explained, carefully backing out of the parking spot and exiting the airport.

“I think it’s exactly what I needed,” Castiel said, his happy scent starting to expand, much to Dean’s relief.

“Huh,” Sam noted. “I didn’t expect you to smell like fresh water. I thought you’d smell more woodsy.”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to smell like grass and smoke,” Castiel replied. “And I don’t really smell like fresh water. My true scent is thunderstorms, or the calm before a storm. The water smell is new.”

“You can get new smells?”

“They’re rare, but I think it happens when you meet your true mate,” Castiel said, and Dean had to resist all urges to look back at him.

“I knew it!” Sam crowed so loud that Dean jolted.

“Knew what?” Castiel said calmly.

“That you…” Sam trailed off, eyes darting around nervously before continuing, “...found someone you really like?”

Despite Sam’s commentary falling flat, the smell of happy alpha continued. “Yes, I really have.”

“Good. I want you and this...other person to be happy,” Sam said, taking care to keep looking straight ahead now.

“Thank you, Sam.” Castiel hummed in thought. “I wonder if this is the reason you are having no reaction to me. You can’t see me as a rival because I’m already ‘taken’.”

Sam made a disgruntled noise. “Why do you all keep acting like I’m going to go feral at the sight of Cas? Just because I was a jerk the first day—”

“Oh, that’s not the concern,” Castiel broke in. “The concern is that every new alpha ends up aggressive to non-family, even if they are close friends. It’s one of the reasons why high school seniors have an extra week off from school during the Thanksgiving holiday. Gives all the new alphas over a week to get their alpha-sterone under control.”

“Huh.” Sam seemed lost in thought. “So is anyone going to tell me what exactly happens during the national alpha test day? Now that I don’t have to go through it myself.”

Dean’s hands clutched the steering wheel tighter at the question.

“Garth… he’s been all shaken up about what’s happened, and I don’t know how to help him if I don’t understand what he’s been through.” Sam’s scent turned too smokey, like the grill had set everything aflame.

“Okay,” Dean said with a gulp, feeling empathetic towards Sam’s newly presented beta friend. The boy had been skittish the last time Dean saw him. “Yeah, there’s no point in hiding it from you. Hell, you might have sons of your own one day who will be tested, and you should know what they’ll have to go through.”

Dean took a deep breath before continuing. “So the school has all the senior boys line up in alphabetical order before military officers have them walk single-file through this long, dark hallway. There’s a door every four feet; the person in front of the line goes through a door, and it’s locked behind them. I was last in my group, so I saw everyone get placed in their own rooms. If you took too long to get into your room, an officer would kick you inside. And it wasn’t just a regular lock that they used. You were deadbolted in.”

Castiel’s scent went foul. “That’s not what happened to me…. But I was tested privately.”

“Well, that’s how everyone else gets tested,” Dean snapped, and then felt bad. “Sorry, I… fuck, it was not a fun day.”

“What happened once you got into the room?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“Well, the room was more like a cage. I barely had enough space to turn around. And instead of solid walls, they were see-through. There were a bunch of people in military uniforms and lab coats watching us, and the kid in the cage to my left, Gordon Walker, was just as freaked out as I was, but we couldn’t talk to each other because the glass was too thick.”

Dean paused his story long enough to merge properly onto the highway. “Then they released plumes of gas in our cages. Gas that was the essence of omega heat pheromones, which I think Dad said was the equivalent of a hundred omegas going into heat. With so many pheromones in such a tiny space, anyone with the alpha gene was forced to go into a rut, and that’s when shit started to go crazy. We couldn’t talk to each other behind the glass, but we could hear each other scream.

“With all those hormones and pheromones going off, the alphas were going aggressive and crazy. I know Gordon smashed his hands bloody trying to break through his glass cage.” Dean remembered backing up as far as he could in his cage while watching Gordon transform into a deranged man, screaming and throwing himself against their barrier. For the first time since his mom died, Dean prayed, hoping that the glass would hold. “I thought for sure he was going to kill me.”

The smell of burning ozone and the feeling of crackling electricity filled the car, which in turn freaked Sam out more.

“Cas, calm down,” Dean sighed. “This was four years ago. I’m fine.”

“They put you in a dangerous situation!” Castiel growled.

“They put all of us in that situation. They’ve been doing it for decades, and I don’t think they’ll ever stop.”

“But what’s the point?” Castiel snapped. “You don’t need to expose a bunch of teenagers to that amount of pheromones and keep them in… in…”

“We called them kennels when we got out. Since we were packed in so tight, and because they treated us like we were no better than dogs.”

“How long did they keep you in those kennels?” Castiel demanded.

“About three hours. During that time, the people in the back kept taking notes. I think they were rating us all. Trying to figure out which alphas would be their super soldiers. Anyway, once the time was up, an officer would take us guys who didn’t react to the nurse’s office to get bloodwork done, just to be sure we didn’t have alpha-sterone. Then once the blood work was done, we were given our beta patches, and told to go home.”

“What happened to the guys who reacted to the pheromones?” Sam asked.

“The alphas? I’m assuming they all got shipped to the hospital and then got the same treatment and paperwork that you had to deal with.”

Castiel was oddly quiet, his scent dampened.

“You okay back there?”

“Yes,” Castiel said softly. “I was just thinking that it’s strange that the only test they have for betas is that they don’t react to omega pheromones, and that they don’t have alpha-sterone.”

“I mean, what else is there to test for? Either you’re an alpha or a beta,” Dean lied.

“I’m glad I didn’t have to go through that,” Sam jumped in. “It sounds awful. No wonder Garth’s been so jumpy the past month.”

“Yeah, especially with the name Fitzgerald, he must have been in the kennel longer than I was, and had people on either side of him to worry about.”

“This practice is absolutely barbaric,” Castiel hissed. “There’s no reason to do this when safer, and more efficient methods exist. Ones that won’t traumatize a bunch of teenagers.”

“Yeah, well, I doubt anyone in power cares enough about it, or it would have been changed a long time ago,” Dean said with a scoff as he pulled into the parking lot of the burger joint.

Castiel grumbled angrily, and Sam made his own disgruntled noise of agreement.

“Can you two stop being angry alphas, or do I need to make you walk it off?” Dean grunted.

Castiel let out a long huff of air. “I’ll be fine.”

Dean turned to Sam and asked, “What about you? Can I trust you not to Alpha Rage?”

Sam glared at Dean before lowering his gaze and taking a quick sniff of Dean’s scent. The burning smell had faded, replaced by the stronger scent of fresh-cut grass.

“Let’s go, then!” Dean took the keys out of the ignition and herded the alphas inside.

He and Sam sat together in a booth, while Castiel sat across from Dean. Over the course of the lunch, Cas’ legs drifted closer and closer to Dean’s until they were pressed against each other. Neither man acknowledged it, but Dean made no effort to move away, either.

It was a nice lunch, and it helped remind Dean that though his alpha test experience was awful, he had two amazing alphas in his life.


	33. Closer

“You bought a house?” Dean gasped, looking at Castiel like the guy had sprouted three additional heads.

After the boys had finished eating they decided to drop Castiel off at his temporary lodging, only to discover that he wasn’t staying at a hotel, but an entire split-level house, all to himself.

“I didn’t buy a house,” Castiel said with a scoff as he took his suitcase out of the trunk. “I’m renting one. Or rather, temporarily leasing. A couple in Topeka inherited this place from their grandfather, but they have no interest in moving to Lebanon—”

Dean snickered. “Can’t say I blame them. I mean, who leaves the city for the literal middle of nowhere?”

“Yes, well, that is part of their problem with selling. They haven’t had any luck finding a buyer, even though they've had an ad in the paper for almost a year straight now, without a single offer. So I gave them a call, offered them money in exchange for lodging, and they agreed.”

“So… are you sleeping on the floor?” Even though Castiel had spent eight years at war, Dean couldn’t picture the man slumming it.

“No, the house is being sold as is, including furniture. It’s actually why I wanted to bring it up.” Castiel smiled, but his scent was nervous. “I was wondering if you and Sam would like to spend the rest of the week with me?”

Dean stared at him.

“The place is only fifteen minutes from the bar, and twenty from your work,” Castiel continued, his scent growing more frantic. “There are three bedrooms, so you and Sam can each have your own room. I know you were planning on spending most of the holiday with the Harvelles but due to recent developments, I thought you would be more open to staying—”

“Wait, hold up,” Dean cut Castiel off. “Are you saying that you rented a fully furnished place for the week, just so we could stay with you?”

Castiel’s shoulders slumped, and it looked like his whole body was trying to cave in on itself. “I know it sounds ridiculous, and I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re amazing,” Dean said, placing his hands on Cas’ shoulders. “I need to double-check with Sam first, but I’d be happy to spend the rest of the holidays with you.”

“Hell yeah, do I want to stay!” Sam had rolled down the window and was sticking his head out like the excited puppy Dean always knew he was. “Can we stay tonight?”

Castiel’s happy scent seemed to dance around Dean. “I would love it if you both could stay tonight.”

“Great! Maybe we can even get you started on _Star Wars_ tonight.” Sam’s head disappeared back in the car, only for his entire body to come hurtling out of it. “Hey, can I pick my own room?”

“Of course!” Castiel agreed.

“Dude, let Cas actually see the place for himself first before calling dibs,” Dean chided.

“Then I think we should start with a tour.” Castiel smiled, before ushering them out of the driveway toward the front steps. “I’m hoping that it lives up to the pictures.”

Castiel retrieved the house keys from his coat pocket and led them inside and up a flight of stairs. To the left was a cozy little living room that had clearly been decorated by an older couple, as there were wool blankets on every chair and couch, actual doilies on the coffee table, and a giant vintage TV with dials on the side.

Dean laughed at the sight of the old TV and said, “This thing is older than me! Hell, I wonder if it even still works, or if it’s just a glorified statue.”

“If it doesn’t work, then we will just have to find some other way to occupy ourselves. Maybe board games?” Castiel asked. “I admit, I’ve always wanted to play them.”

“You’ve never played a board game?” Dean was stunned and even Sam looked shocked.

Castiel shrugged, explaining, “It’s an activity that involves multiple players, and I was usually alone.”

“Okay, we need to fix that. Tonight we are having a board game night!” Dean announced.

“If we’re playing Monopoly then I get dibs on being the racecar,” Sam chimed in.

“Bitch. Fine, then I’ll be the top hat,” Dean grumbled.

“I have no idea what any of that means, but perhaps you can explain it more as we continue the tour?” Castiel asked, before gesturing to the room straight ahead.

They entered a decently sized kitchen at least twice the size of theirs at home. Curious, Dean opened the cabinets and saw that it was fully stocked with all sorts of pots, pans, and baking supplies.

“Jackpot!” Dean gloated. “Man, they even have a wok here! I can make an awesome stir-fry with this. And they have pie tins!”

“I have had a huge craving for apple pie lately,” Castiel said, though he couldn't meet Dean’s eyes as he did so.

“Apple pies...with honey?” Sam asked, his voice the tone of someone trying to portray nothing but innocence.

Castiel laughed. “Yes, apple-honey pie. How very astute of you, Sam.”

To Dean’s relief, Sam didn’t say anything else about the topic, and instead demanded that they continue their tour. It was a relatively simple house with a finished basement, two bathrooms, and three bedrooms.

“I want the room with the full-sized bed!” Sam decided. “I’d like to sleep in a bed I can actually fit on.”

“You’d fit on it just fine if you didn’t sleep spread out like a starfish,” Dean grumbled. “I’ll take the one with the twin, then.”

Sam snorted, and Dean glowered at him. “You got a problem with that, Sammy?”

“You don’t have to sleep in _that_ bed.” Sam shrugged before turning away from the older men. “I’m going to check out my new room and see how comfy the bed is.”

“Don’t get too comfortable! We’re not moving in!” Dean hollered at his brother’s retreating back, leaving Dean alone in the master bedroom with Castiel.

Castiel smiled, tugging nervously on his scarf. “He’s right, you don’t have to stay in that room. You could have the master.”

“Yeah.” Dean turned towards Castiel, and stepped closer into his space. “Where would _you_ sleep, then?”

“I could take the twin bed,” Castiel ventured. He swallowed nervously, his eyes trained on Dean as the younger man continued to get in his personal bubble. “Or… or I could share the master with you?”

“You could,” Dean agreed, slowly reaching out for the end of the scarf that Castiel was clutching tight, gently easing the man’s grip on it. “It’s at least a queen-sized bed, and we have shared a smaller bed before.”

Castiel nodded, removing his hand from his scarf and laying it on top of Dean’s. “Twice, technically.”

“We also don’t know how cold this place gets. Might need the extra body heat to keep warm, especially since you aren’t used to a Kansas winter.” Dean wrapped his hands around Castiel’s scarf and guided his face closer.

“How thoughtful of you.” Castiel’s breathing hitched as his nose brushed against Dean’s.

Castiel continued staring at Dean, eyes tracing him like he was some exotic plant he’d never seen before. Dean wondered why Castiel wasn’t moving closer, or making any attempt to touch him. Was Dean reading the signs all wrong?

“Maybe I’m just being selfish?” Dean whispered, but his heart felt like it was screaming at Castiel.

Castiel laughed and said, “Here I was afraid that you were just too giving.”

Castiel leaned in closer and Dean instinctively closed his eyes. He didn’t just feel the brush of lips against his. He felt warm rain trickle against his skin, and the breeze from the lake run through his hair. The crackle of thunder echoed in his ears as electricity sparked at his mouth, coursed through his spine, and ended at his toes. Dean opened his mouth wider, and was flooded with the taste of juicy apples and honey coating his tongue.

Dean loved every second of it.

The only reason he pulled away was to get another breath of air, but he immediately dived in for another kiss. And another. And another, until his feet were literally swept off the ground, and he landed on his back on the bed.

“Sorry,” Castiel murmured against Dean’s lips. “I tripped.”

“Sure you did.” Dean huffed a laugh before stealing Cas’ lips again.

They only stopped when Sam loudly reminded them that there was a minor in the house, and that he could smell and hear everything that was going on.


	34. Freak Of Nature

The next couple of days were the best of Dean’s life. Every day he got to go to bed wrapped up in the arms of his true mate and wake up to either being spooned by him, or with his head against Dean’s chest. Dean would then do his modified exercise regime, with Castiel now joining him. While Dean lifted weights that he brought from home, Castiel was doing warrior pose, and then they would go for a morning jog with Sammy. Sammy needed to build up his endurance before boot camp, and the scent of two sweaty alphas always overpowered Dean’s meager omega scent.

Afterwards he’d make them all breakfast while they took turns showering, and he’d take his while they did the dishes. Cas was always disappointed whenever Dean had to shower, but never asked what Dean did to hide his smell, or why he did it. Castiel didn’t really ask any questions, always accepting whatever Dean was willing to offer up and demanding nothing more, which Dean was grateful for.

There really wasn’t any good way to explain to someone that he was a specialized human male that could carry young. Didn’t help that Dean had no interest in having kids, even if he could.

After showering, Dean would drive off to Bobby’s, while Cas dropped Sam off at Garth’s in the Lincoln he’d rented for the rest of his stay. During his lunch breaks, Cas would drive up and they would eat lunch together, chatting about what Dean got to work on that day, Cas’ plans for the day, and any interesting facts he’d learned. After work, Dean would pick up Sam from his friend's, and the three of them would make dinner together.

More specifically, Dean would do the actual cooking, Castiel would try to help, and Sam would watch from a safe distant corner unless there was something to sample.

After dinner they would play a board game for the night, before Sam would work on his homework while Cas and Dean got comfortable on the couch together with their books. With his unexpected vacation time from Ellen’s, Dean finally had the chance to read _Cat’s Cradle_. Once in a while the silence would be broken by Sam making a comment on his homework, or Castiel sharing a factoid. The night always drew to a close with Sam loudly closing his school books, proclaiming it was time for him to go to bed.

Castiel and Dean would linger on the couch for a bit, taking advantage of Sam being on the other side of the house to get more intimate. Not that they ever got too heated, since there was a teenager who could walk in at any moment, and Dean was still hiding some important facts about his anatomy. Instead, they just took their time exploring everything from the waist up.

Dean took extra time and care exploring Castiel’s mouth and memorizing the shape of the tattoo above Cas’ hipbone that he found irresistible.

Then the day would end with the two of them crawling back into bed together, and the cycle would repeat.

It was routine and mundane, but for some reason, Dean loved every minute of it. Every day was filled with a sense of calm, and there was no unnecessary stress. Dean didn’t feel stretched too thin between both of his jobs, and taking care of both Sam and John. It was also incredible to have someone take care of _him_ for once.

Castiel was there to massage him after a hard day of work. He found out Dean liked soft things and filled the home with plush blankets and a cozy bathrobe that Dean loved lounging around in. When he didn’t have the energy to get up right away, Castiel would crawl out of bed to make him a cup of coffee, just the way Dean liked it. Castiel even made him his lunches, always cutting his sandwiches diagonally because that’s the way he liked them.

The routine finally shifted on their fourth day, when Dean was scheduled back at the Roadhouse. It was something Dean had been dreading because he hadn’t heard any word from the Harvelles since Jo’s heat. He also knew that Ellen would have questions about that day, and how Dean pulled off things that a beta couldn’t.

“I can join you on your shift tonight,” Castiel ventured, knowing that Dean was agitated about working, but didn’t know why.

Dean shook his head. “Nah, you already made plans with Meg and Balth.”

Even if Dean didn’t personally like Meg and Balthazar, it was clear that they liked Cas, and he couldn’t blame them for being overprotective of the guy. Plus, they were now keeping their distance from Dean, which he appreciated.

Castiel pouted, but nodded. “I just feel bad that I’ll be missing you for the rest of the day.”

Dean felt guilty as well, but he couldn’t afford to take any more time off. “Hey, just gives us more of an excuse to laze around tomorrow morning, right? Bobby’s letting me come in later.”

Castiel smiled weakly, grabbed Dean’s patch from the dresser, and pinned it onto his black work shirt. He took his time straightening out the badge, tracing the Greek letter with precision. “I think this is the shirt you were wearing when I first met you.”

“Probably is. Not like I own too many shirts.” Dean shrugged and stroked the side of Castiel’s lapels. “Though I don’t see you wearing all those war medals anymore.”

“That’s because they are pretentious for everyday wear. I’ll save them for important ceremonies.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

Of course a rich alpha had ceremonies to attend. Though Cas probably looked really good at those functions. Hell, he probably wore Tier 4 suits to them.

Dean had a thing for men in suits. One day he’d need to ask Castiel to model one for him.

“Maybe I will,” Castiel said coyly, making Dean realize that he must have said the last bit out loud.

Instead of getting embarrassed, he gave Castiel a cheeky smile. “I’m not sure what I’m going to enjoy more. Seeing you in one, or…” he lowered his voice to a whisper just in case anyone else was listening, “helping you get out of it.”

Castiel’s eyes dilated before he pinned Dean against the wall and began kissing him senseless. Dean knew he deserved it, and happily accepted his punishment. Dean had learned that as much as he enjoyed the gentle kisses and soft caresses Castiel usually gave, he was also a sucker for rough kisses that felt like a fight for dominance, and being manhandled to the point that they left bruises on each other.

Castiel was always apologetic later when he found those fading remnants on Dean, and would gently kiss them. Dean, however, was a vindictive bastard who loved nibbling over Castiel’s marks until the man gasped. Dean liked the rush of power, knowing that he had a big, bad alpha completely vulnerable to his whims.

The only regret Dean had about their make-out sessions was the stench of mated omega that clung to him afterwards.

“Fuck,” Dean gasped, finally wrestling his lips away from Castiel’s. “We reek.”

“Mmm,” Castiel sighed, leaning in to sniff at Dean’s neck. “It’s perfect.”

“Come on, man, I’m going to need to take another shower because of you, and I don’t have the time.”

“Then don’t,” Castiel muttered into Dean’s skin, nuzzling his chin along Dean’s jawline and down to his collarbone. “You smell like _mine_.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I smell like you, which is already one strike against me, but I can’t afford to smell like…. overripe me.”

“Why not?” the alpha practically whined, much to Dean’s annoyance.

“You want to know what happens if I go out like this?” Dean growled, and Castiel stiffened at the change of tone. “It will probably be the last time you see me.”

Castiel’s grip tightened on Dean’s hips as the scent of lightning grew stronger. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that freaks like me don’t belong in this ‘perfect society,’ Cas. If anyone knew that I… that I smell like this, I’m dead.”

The scent of fear overpowered the protective alpha anger from before. “No… that… that can’t be.”

“It is… I… I’m not the only one in my family who’s a ‘freak.’ Mom was too, and her mother, and her mother before that. None of us came out right, and it got them all killed.”

Castiel’s hands shifted from Dean’s hips to grip the back of his shirt. “Trust me, Dean. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. And in five months’ time, I will have more than enough power to do what I want.”

“You sound pretty confident about that.” Dean gulped as he felt Castiel’s hand wander from his shirt to the back of his neck.

“I am.” Castiel’s gaze hardened. “It is the only reason I’m even willing to go back there.”

“You also don’t have a choice. It’s your placement, remember? Do you really want to be stuck as a laborer for the rest of your life?”

Castiel’s fingers threaded through Dean’s hair. “If it meant coming home to you every night, then I wouldn’t mind.”

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. “You would eventually. It’s a back-breaking, mind-dulling job, and you need something to keep that big brain of yours challenged. You’d be miserable if you gave it all up.”

“I’d have you,” Castiel argued.

“I’m not going anywhere, Cas,” Dean promised. “Except to de-stink and go to work.”

Castiel grumbled in protest, but before he could release Dean, Dean stole a quick kiss that developed into another makeout session. They only broke away when Dean’s alarm went off.

“Shit,” Dean cursed, pulling himself away from Castiel and rummaging through the dresser until he found his hunter spray. “No time for a shower now. I just got to spritz and run.”

He gave himself enough of a dosing to clog his own nose, and had to rely on Castiel. “Do I smell like I’m supposed to now?”

Castiel stepped in close enough to sniff, and his scent immediately turned putrid. “You smell fresh and clean again.”

Dean kissed the top of Castiel’s nose, not trusting himself to not be deterred by his tantalizing lips again. “I promise you can stink me up again when I get home.”

Castiel sighed dejectedly and moved back over to sit on the bed. He probably thought he was helping Dean by being further away, but he didn’t take into account how tempting he looked. Like he was begging for Dean to find a way to make him feel better.

Shaking his head, Dean went back to getting ready, and fished out his cellphone. “Make sure that Sam has this before you leave so that if he gets into any trouble, he can call you. If you need to reach me, just call the bar or Ellen.”

Castiel nodded. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Cheer up, Cas, or else Meg and Balth are going to think I’m taking advantage of you again,” Dean teased weakly.

The smile Castiel gave was just as weak. “Don’t worry, I won’t be this pathetic when they see me.”

Strange how just being away for a couple of hours made them both so pathetic. Or maybe it was because Dean no longer smelt like his true mate?

Castiel, on the other hand, still stank of omega.

“Hey,” Dean said, shifting awkwardly. “Don’t forget to shower before you go out. You… umm...”

“Smell mated?” Castiel supplied, and Dean nodded. “It’s alright, Dean. I've started to learn the rules of how your world works. No matter how strange the requests, I will follow them as long as they keep you safe.”

Dean smiled in gratitude. “I opposite of hate you.”

Castiel’s scent turned from dejected to amused. “I opposite of hate you too. Now get out of here before Ellen yells at me for kidnapping her best bartender.”

Dean smirked, grabbed his car keys, and waved goodbye as he bolted out of the house. Luckily the rental was close to the bar, and Dean arrived only two minutes late.

“You’re late,” Ellen said anyway, a pitcher of beer in one hand and a pile of menus in the other. She had shadows and wrinkles around her eyes that were not there last week.

“Sorry, lost track of time.” He quickly ducked back behind the bar and tied his apron around his waist.

“You’re staying later to make up for it,” she growled, darting past him without looking, but leaving behind a bitter smell instead of the one of fresh laundry he usually got off of her.

That stung.

Ellen was always a hardass, but she’d never treated Dean with disdain before. She didn’t look at him the whole shift, and the only time she spoke to him was to bark orders. It was only after all the other workers had packed up and the two of them were left alone to close up that she finally looked at him.

Or rather, she looked at him, and then at the speaker set in the middle of the ceiling.

“Dean,” she said, eyes never leaving the speaker, “mind turning that jukebox back on? It’s a little too quiet in here.”

Bewildered, Dean did as she asked and put on a random song. By the time he turned back around, Ellen was pulling a strange device out of her pocket and aiming it at the speaker. It let out a shrill whistle that pierced through Dean’s ears like a lance, almost bringing him to his knees in pain.

Ellen just watched him with a cold expression, calmly tucking the device away. “I have a godson who’s a brilliant computer whiz. Brilliant, but paranoid as hell. He made this little doo-hickey that temporarily blocks out those speakers. Or at least makes them less sensitive to lower pitches, and that’s why it’s important to have something louder to block out the other noises. It only works for three songs at best, so better talk fast.”

Dean gulped.

“You could smell my daughter go into heat. You could wrestle a new alpha in a rut away from said omega in heat, and didn’t even break a sweat.” She eyed him suspiciously as she walked closer. “That ‘B’ on your chest is just for show, isn’t it?”

Dean felt like a cornered animal, not knowing what to say. Hell, he hadn’t even admitted the words to his true mate yet.

“You know… I’ve trusted you with a lot over the years,” Ellen said. “Hell, you’re the only bartender I trust on rotation with Pam when she gets close to that season, but I’m not going to be able to do that if you’re an alpha.”

Dean tried to process her thought process. “Because… I’m an alpha?”

“I’m not dumb, Dean!” Ellen snapped. “Betas don’t do what you can do, and I’ve questioned it for years. I can’t blame you for hiding it, not when your family needed you here, but my daughter is an omega now, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving her alone with two alphas like I’ve done before.”

Dean went from confused to insulted. “Wait, you suddenly don’t trust me around Pam or Jo anymore because I’m an alpha? Hell, you don’t trust me with Jo? That girl is like a little sister to me, and you think I’ll, what… take advantage of her like some sort of monster?”

“I don’t know what to think! Not from an alpha in hiding.”

“I’m not a damn alpha, I’m an omega!” Dean bellowed.

The phantom words echoed around the room.

_Omega. Omega!_

Dean had never said those words aloud before.

Ellen looked at him as if he were crazy. “What?”

“Mom… she wasn’t an omega. She was an alpha. A female-alpha. And I’m a male-omega.”

“What kind of horse hockey are you trying to feed me?” Ellen glared at him just as the second song started to play.

“I’m not lying.” Dean tried to figure out how to prove it to her, especially since her beta nose wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between an alpha or omega scent. He then got an idea. “I can prove that I’m not an alpha. I’m something very different.”

“Fine, prove it.”

Dean walked back behind the bar and rooted around until he found the old kitchen knife he kept stashed behind there. He pulled it out and Ellen cursed loudly.

“What the hell are you doing with that?”

“Proving a point, Ellen. How fast do alpha wounds heal?”

“Pretty fast. In a matter of hours they won’t even have a scar,” she said, eyeing his knife suspiciously.

“Well, I don’t heal in an hour,” Dean said, before slicing open his palm and holding it up for Ellen.

“Dean!” Her previous anger forgotten, she rushed over and ran his hand under cold water to wash the blood out, only to freeze when the hand came away clean, no injury to be seen. “H-how?”

“I told you, Ellen. It doesn’t take me an hour to heal. I can heal in seconds.”

The third song ended, leaving the bar in complete silence.


	35. The Power Of An Omega

Dean woke up the next morning to a strange text from Ellen.

_**I need help with Jo. I don’t know what I’m doing.** _

“Is everything okay?” a tired Castiel asked, swinging a leg around Dean to curl even closer to him.

“I don’t know. I think Ellen is having a tough time with Jo. Not sure why she’s reaching out to me, though.”

“She probably knows that you’re an amazing teenager whisperer,” Castiel yawned, nuzzling his face into Dean’s back.

Dean chuckled. “That’s not a thing.”

“It should be. Teenagers can be intimidating, and you handle Sam with ease.”

“Because I’m not an old geezer like the rest of you,” Dean teased, then squawked when Castiel bit his earlobe. “Not fair!”

“You deserved it,” Castiel muttered, abandoning Dean’s ear to bury his nose against his scent gland.

“You’re a dick,” Dean complained, but made no effort to scramble out of his hold. “And you need to at least loosen up a bit so I can reply back to Ellen.”

“Do you have another shift at the bar tonight?”

“No, just at the salvage yard.”

“Then how about you invite the Harvelles over here? Jo’s heat is over, and I’m sure she wants the excuse to get out of the house.”

Dean’s nose wrinkled in disgust as he remembered his own heats, especially the first one. “Yeah, would be good for the kid, but not sure how comfortable Ellen is with that idea. She’s jumpy at the thought of Jo being around alphas now. Not sure how she’ll feel about her around all of us.”

Castiel huffed out a loud puff of air that tickled Dean’s skin. “Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“Alright, but you’re on grocery duty if they accept.” Dean reached for his phone again and quickly typed out a message.

_Can we talk over dinner_

_staying with Cas temp on 401 Lazareth Rd._

To his surprise Ellen agreed, saying they’d be there at 6:30. “Huh… I have no idea what to make.”

“Anything but more Winchester Surprise,” Castiel complained.

“Oh, don’t be like that. You loved it!”

“ _I_ did, but my arteries and bowels didn’t.”

Dean snickered. “Okay, none of Mom’s recipes, then… Hmm, there’s a honey beer-braised ribs recipe I’ve been wanting to test out.”

Castiel moaned. “Marry me.”

Dean snorted. “That’s not even legal.”

“I’ll find a way to make it legal someday,” Castiel promised, pulling Dean closer.

Dean chuckled. “Going to make use of that fancy law job your dad’s giving you?”

“Of course. Might as well get some use out of the job, and what better way than making sure my true mate at least has the option to marry me someday?”

Dean liked the fact that Castiel didn’t just assume Dean would marry him. Even though Dean knew he would be stupid to turn him down.

Not because Castiel was a rich alpha, or that Sammy liked him, or that his hormones thought Castiel was perfection personified, but because Castiel made Dean feel safe and happier than he’s ever been. Dean would be crazy to not want to have him for the rest of their respective lives.

“Well, until then, how do you feel about helping me brainstorm some ideas for side dishes, and then get our morning routine started?”

Castiel grumbled. “Fine, but you actually have to cuddle me back until we have to get up.”

“Clingy alpha,” Dean teased, but he still rolled over to hug his true mate back.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur until Dean found himself pulling his steamed ribs out of the oven. He had had them in the pressure cooker earlier in the day since it supposedly made them more juicy, and moaned loudly at the sweet, tangy smell emanating from them. “Cas, I know what I want you to get me for my birthday. I need one of these pressure cookers in my life.”

Castiel closed the gap between them and rested his head at the crook of Dean’s neck. “That should be an easy gift. Sure that’s all you want?”

“Can you not smell our dinner? That’s all I need!”

“I must be distracted by another honey smell,” Castiel mumbled, before littering kisses against Dean’s neck.

“You two are too sickeningly sweet,” Sam complained, reaching past them so he could grab the silverware to finish setting the table.

“Hey, I only get a couple more minutes of this before the Harvelles come, let me enjoy it,” Dean said, then turned around to loudly kiss Castiel on the lips.

“Ugh,” Sam complained, rolling his eyes so hard Dean could practically hear them.

“Whatever, bitch, just finish setting the table, and then keep an ear out for the doorbell.”

Sam skulked away, loudly clanking the silverware down on the table. Once the fifth clang was heard, Castiel unwound himself from Dean.

“I’ll get started on bringing the food out,” Castiel said, grabbing the plate of corn on the cob. “Best to avoid any more temptations.”

“Because me cooking was that distracting?” Dean called out after him, before grabbing the tongs and putting the ribs on a platter.

He had just piled the last rib on when the doorbell rang.

“I got it!” Sam called out, practically tripping down the steps to get the door.

It was the first time in over a week that Sam had seen Jo, and the kid was obviously excited and nervous. Dean was curious as to how both teens would react to the other’s scent, now that they could smell each other clearly.

“You smell like a lawn mower,” Jo said in greeting.

Dean could smell the slight negative dip in Sam’s scent before he recovered.

“Well, you smell like a fruit cup,” Sam snarked back.

“Hello, Sam,” Ellen drawled. “Yes, this pan is heavy, but don’t mind me. I don’t mind awkwardly hovering outside in the winter chill.”

“Sorry, Ellen! Please come in and let me take that for you. Umm, the kitchen is right up those stairs, make a right, and then keep going straight.”

The three pairs of footsteps finally reached the top of the staircase by the time Dean set out the water and sweet tea pitchers. “Right on time, the food just came out.”

“Nice place you got here, Castiel,” Ellen observed before turning to Dean. “Does John know you boys are here?”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t even know if he’s been home. Either way, he hasn’t bothered to call or text me, so not my problem.”

Ellen seemed surprised by his response. “Huh, I’m used to you defending him.”

“Well, I ran out excuses when he didn’t even care that his son could have died,” Dean calmly stated. “But let’s not talk about John. Go grab a seat and dig in.”

Dean tried not to wrinkle his nose at Jo’s scent, noticing the overly sour notes, but neither Sam nor Cas seemed to notice. Their alpha noses were probably focused on the sweet omega fragrance, unable to smell the underlying emotions.

Jo was miserable, but was doing her best not to show it.

“We brought over some whiskey brownies,” Ellen said, leaving the pan on the kitchen counter before taking a seat next to Jo and across from Dean’s usual seat.

“I’ve heard many high praises about these brownies. I’m excited to finally sample some myself,” Castiel said, taking a seat at the head of the table and grabbing a biscuit before passing the basket to Ellen at his left.

“Yeah, we were supposed to have them over a month ago,” Sam teased, but then shriveled in his seat at Ellen’s angry gaze.

Maybe she _had_ held Sam’s reaction when Jo had presented against him.

Dean cleared his throat to draw Ellen’s attention away from his little brother. “Want a honey-beer braised rib? Won’t lie, this is my first attempt, so it might not be good.”

Ellen tried a piece, looking disappointed as she swallowed it. “Damn, that is good.”

Dean chuckled nervously. “What, were you hoping it was bad?”

“Not bad, just not as good as mine,” she admitted. “Now I’m going to have to get that recipe out of you.”

Dean’s fork clattered to his plate. “You want a recipe from me? That means I can finally get the recipe for that whiskey icing of yours!”

Castiel seemed confused, so Sam explained, “Dean has tried to make the whiskey brownies himself, but he can’t get Ellen’s icing right. She said the only way she gives away a recipe is if she gets a great one in return, but so far Dean hasn’t been able to make something that she’s wanted to learn how to make herself.”

“It’s taken five years, but I finally did it!” Dean boasted.

The rest of the meal went by more smoothly after that exchange, but Jo remained quiet for most of the meal, only answering in short, quick sentences when something was directed at her. The sourness of her scent slowly grew steadier as the evening wore on.

“So what is it that you do, Castiel?” Ellen asked, before taking a forkful of whiskey brownie.

Castiel coughed as his own biteful went down wrong. “Huh?”

“Being able to come back to Kansas so soon and rent a nice place like this? You must have quite the job already lined up.” She put her fork down and her gaze was challenging Castiel's. “Unless you’re still living off your inheritance?”

“I do have a job lined up,” Castiel said seriously. “But it’s a position that requires extensive training, so I’m at an apprenticeship level for the next five months before I can hold the title for myself.”

“That must be intriguing. What field is it in? Business?”

“Law,” Castiel said, the same evasive answer he always gave.

“Sam must be overjoyed having someone who can help him in his future career,” Ellen said coldly.

“I have every intention of helping him succeed,” Castiel responded back with just as much ice.

Dean gagged as Jo’s sour scent suddenly became too strong. Everyone looked at Dean in confusion, while Jo took the opportunity to slink away downstairs.

“Dean, are you alright?”

Dean rubbed his nose in agitation. “Yeah, but Jo isn’t feeling so hot. I can’t believe you guys didn’t smell that!”

Castiel and Sam shared a quick glance with each other, while Ellen studied them all carefully.

“So it really is true,” Ellen said softly. “You are different from these two.”

Dean tensed, hoping Ellen was smart enough not to use the “O” word when anyone could be listening.

“I think I should talk to her,” Dean said, slowly rising from his chair.

“Dean?” Ellen waved him over to her side and gave him a hug, placing something heavy in his shirt pocket. “Thank you for talking to her. She can be a little moody, but some classical music might help. Used to calm her down as a child.”

Dean nodded, placed a hand in his pocket, and tightly gripped the technology in his hands. “Just give us some time, please?”

“Take your time,” Castiel said. “In the meantime, I’m sure Ellen has some interesting stories to share.”

“I own a bar, I have more than enough stories to pass the evening away.”

Dean left them in the kitchen and headed towards the basement, following Jo’s scent of distress. She was huddled in the corner, behind an old box of Christmas decorations and an old sewing mannequin. Nearby was an old boombox that Dean knew worked since he recently put new batteries in it.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dean said, picking up the boombox and turning it on. “Your mom said that you liked listening to classical music to calm down. Let’s see if I can find anything on the radio.”

Jo eyed him suspiciously until he found a station that was playing a violin medley with no vocals. He put the music on as loud as it could go without hurting their omega ears, and left it near the stairs. He fished the device, which looked a lot like an old walkman, out of his pocket and hit the play button.

The awful ear-piercing noise came out of it, and Dean assumed he did it right.

“Fuck, that thing is even worse when you’re holding it,” Dean complained, rubbing at his aching ears.

“Consider yourself lucky. You don’t have omega hearing,” Jo complained.

“Actually, I do.” Dean sighed and sat down across from her. “Because I am one.”

Jo’s sour scent made him cough as she got angrier. Her anger made his throat burn and his chest uncomfortably warm. “That isn’t funny.”

“I know it’s not. Hell, admitting it can get me killed.”

“Then why say it at all?”

“Because you needed to hear it. I don’t know everything you are going through right now, but I might know more than your mom.”

“Know what I’m going through?” Jo growled as tears began to form in her eyes. “You know nothing! My entire life is ruined!”

“That might be a little extreme.”

“No, it’s not. I had plans, I had goals. I was going to get into a good college, get my bachelor’s in criminal justice, and get my master’s in forensics. I was going to be a forensic scientist who would help solve crimes and put away cold cases! Now I can’t do any of that because of this fucking badge!” She unpinned her badge and flung it as hard as she could, but its light weight made it glide only a couple of inches away from her.

“That badge doesn’t define you,” Dean said matter-of-factly.

Jo scoffed. “Easy for you to say. If you _are_ an omega—which is absolute bull crap—then you don’t have to deal with the stigma. People look at me differently! They treat me like I’m this delicate little thing that’s too dumb to think for herself!”

“You’re right, I don’t have to deal with that,” Dean admitted.

“It’s crazy! People used to ask me what kind of colleges I was looking into, and now I’m getting asked when I want to mate and have babies! Instead of a career, they’re asking me how I want to spend my volunteer hours before starting my family. When I told people I’d rather waitress and get paid than do volunteer work all my life, they told me I didn’t want to be ‘one of _those_ omegas.’ The ones that end up knocked up and have to support themselves and their kid. Hell, you’d think I told them I wanted to be a friggin’ stripper based on their reactions!”

Dean shook his head, wishing that people could just mind their own business. “Do you want to waitress for your mom?”

Jo glared at Dean before breaking down into a whimper. “No. No, I don’t want that at all!”

“Kid,” Dean sighed, before sliding closer to her and slowly guiding her into his arms. “Hey, it will be okay.”

“You don’t get it,” she sobbed. “My life is over.”

“It’s not over. Trust me.”

“Why,” she hissed, “because you’re supposedly just like me?”

Dean glanced over at the radio just as the second song started playing. Good thing classical music was longer than most of the shit playing on the pop stations. More time to talk.

“You’re right, Jo. I can’t fully know what you are going through because I don’t bear the mark of it. But you’ve got to know that the reason I don’t wear it has nothing to do with me being ashamed of it, and everything to do with getting hunted down if people knew.”

Jo tensed. “What?”

“You heard me. The reason you don’t hear about omega-males or alpha-females is because people don’t want us to exist. We don’t fit into the perfect mold that society wants us to believe we all fit in, and I guess they’re threatened by it. All I know for sure is my mom was killed because she was an alpha-female.”

Jo stared at him, the sour scent slowly abating, but still prevalent.

“The world has it wrong. Omegas are far from the weakest designation. Hell, we actually are evenly matched with alphas.”

Jo scoffed. “Now I know you're lying.”

“Come on, get up, I can prove it.” Dean carefully pulled her to her feet and led her to a more spacious part of the basement. “The coolest thing is that we have the same super strength as alphas, only where they get their strength from rage, ours is from love.”

“Okay, that is definite bullsh—ahhh!” Jo’s sentence was cut off with a yell as Dean suddenly lifted her up in the air with one hand.

“Hey, Jo? Did you know that I love you like a sister?” Dean teased, before gingerly returning her to the ground. “Heck, if you focus on your love for me, you can pick me up as well.”

“You’ve got to weigh at least 200 pounds!”

“You better mean 200 pounds of pure muscle,” Dean grumbled. “But if you can pick me up, that proves you’re strong now.”

Jo looked doubtful, but still stepped closer to Dean. “How do I do this?”

“As much as I hate to say it, bridal style is your best bet. At least until you get comfortable with it. That and you’re less likely to hurt—”

“Myself?” Jo guessed.

“No, me! You don’t know how to restrain your strength yet, and other holds can either dislocate my shoulder or break my ribs!”

Jo still didn’t look like she believed him. “You better not fall on top of me.”

“I know you’ve got me.” Dean crouched down and wrapped his arms around her shoulders to make it easier for her to lift him up.

“This is so dumb,” she muttered, but squatted down so she could reach Dean’s legs. In one swift movement, Dean’s feet were swept out from under him by the tiny blond.

“My hero,” Dean exclaimed, dramatically clutching his heart.

“Holy shit! You weigh nothing!”

“As cheesy as this is going to sound, it’s all the power of love.” Dean smirked. “Now you know why I didn’t trust you not to break my ribs.”

“Wait, then why aren’t omegas going Wonder Woman on people’s asses? We’re super strong!”

“Because not enough people believe it. A lot of girls from the omega lineage get it drilled into their heads early on that they’ll be ‘fragile’ and they never believe that they can be that strong. But you—”

“Believed I was going to be a beta?” Jo supplied.

“Have always been a force to be reckoned with. You are strong, resilient, and stubborn as hell. I knew you wouldn’t believe the lie.”

“So what else can we do?” Jo asked, putting Dean back to the ground right as the third song began.

“Read up on things that we and alphas can both do. The only differences are that we smell muskier scents while they smell sweet, and how we tap into our strength.”

“Wait… how do you know that you’re not just an alpha instead of an omega?”

Dean’s cheeks flushed. “Do I really have to explain anatomy to you? I don’t have a knot and I go into heats.”

Jo studied him closely, and Dean felt like even more of a freak then he usually did. “Externally I’m male, but internally I’m more like an omega. Look, can we drop it? It freaks me out enough as it is.”

“Wait, does this mean… Is Cas your alpha?”

Dean flinched. Even if he called Cas his alpha, it felt wrong when someone else said it. It felt more like he was Cas’ possession than a person.

Luckily the third song ended and he didn’t need to answer.

“Come on, Jo, ready to go back upstairs?” he asked, but didn’t look at her.

Jo looked confused, but agreed. Dean was relieved that by the time they got back to the dinner table, the sour smell was gone from Jo’s scent. In fact, the sweet smell got stronger the longer she stayed at the table, and joked around with everyone.

“Hey, Castiel, can I ask you something?” Jo asked nervously.

“You can feel free to ask me whatever you like,” Castiel said sincerely, and then stole a bite of Dean’s whiskey brownie.

“Is it illegal for an omega to get a higher education?”

Everyone froze, and Dean held his breath, wondering what Castiel’s answer would be.

Castiel swallowed his pilfered bite before answering, “There are no actual laws against it. There’s… discouragement, since college is expensive, and it would take at least ten years of work to pay off all the debt, which isn’t the best for those who want to raise their children. Balancing classes and child rearing is very difficult.”

“And what if I don’t?” Jo asked, challenging him. “What if I want an education and career first, and a family later? Or hell, not settle down with anyone but a mate willing to help me raise our family together as equals?”

Castiel put down his fork. “There’s one other problem. What did you put down for your placements if you were an omega? That part is legally binding.”

“I left it blank, because there was only a 5% shot of me being one. I only have a future career in forensics as my placement option.”

“Then I can’t think of any other legal ramification they can come up with,” Castiel said, before his eyes narrowed and the stench of burning ozone picked up. “And if they do, I want you to give me a call. You can guarantee that I will be in your corner to help you out.”

Jo’s sweet pineapple scent blocked out most of Castiel’s angry scent. “You mean it? I can still follow my dreams?”

“Jo, none of us ever wanted you to stop,” Sam said, looking at Jo like she was some kind of miracle.

Jo’s happiness scent blended perfectly with Sam’s own, and Dean couldn’t help but shoot Ellen a cocky grin.

“What?” Ellen snapped.

“Nothing, just thinking that we might want to keep those invitations in mind after all.”

Dean didn’t think he deserved the kick to the shins that he got.


	36. Sacrifices

If Castiel closed his eyes, he could still see that winter dinner with the Harvelles and the Winchesters. How the food was delicious, as was the air, and how there were no awkward silences. He missed the sound of Dean’s laugh, the way he stuffed too much food into his mouth, and how he could put people at ease with just a smile.

Castiel missed Dean.

But Castiel couldn’t afford to close his eyes and daydream. He needed to be awake and process everything that was going on around him, because his people needed him to. His people needed him to watch out for them and make sure that someone was protecting their interests for once.

It made Castiel’s stomach turn, realizing how many young boys that the country sent to their deaths, how many little girls believed that they were too dumb to be anything but a housewife, and how people feared every word coming out of their mouth in case someone didn’t like what they heard.

Things had to change in this country, and it was with a heavy heart that Castiel realized he would have to make sacrifices to achieve those changes. His greatest would be saying goodbye to the Winchesters.

Not forever, but at least until the coronation.

As much as it pained him, he knew that the Winchesters were his weakness, especially Dean, and for the game he was playing, he couldn’t afford to have that vulnerability. He had to be the type of alpha that his father expected him to be, and that meant being strong. He gave up his studies of botany in favor of studying law, military strategy, and powerful alphas in the past in his free time. He tried to personify the great rulers of old like Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, and Napoleon in hopes that they were the type of alpha his father wanted him to be.

It worked.

Not just for his father—his brothers and other Cabinet members were also impressed with Castiel.

_“You know, Castiel,” his father said during one of their private meetings. “You have impressed me. I admit I was surprised that you wanted the seat for the Department of Justice. I thought you would have been happiest with the Department of Agriculture.”_

_Castiel had smiled and lied without a change in his scent. “Plants were a hobby of my youth. What I am interested in now is justice. I find it only fair that as your third alpha son that I get one of the positions that will have the greatest impact on your rule, and show the greatest loyalty. After all, Michael became your Lord of Defense and Lucifer your Lord of State, and both have served you better than their more experienced predecessors.”_

_“That is true,” Chuck admitted with pride. “But I will not just give you the position. You still have to earn it. Prove to me that you can do Ishim’s job better than he can, and it is yours.”_

Every moment for the past five months had Castiel being committed to doing just that. Castiel had let the Cabinet members think that he was taking the seat of Agriculture so that they could continue to be complacent in their own seats. Fortunately, Ishim was as lazy as he was corrupt, meaning that many of the reports and cases he should have looked over were left ignored at his table, and it was easy for Castiel to swipe a file to copy and put it back on his desk before he even knew it was gone. From there, Castiel would report his findings to his father and handle it exactly as Chuck would like it.

When Castiel wasn’t working or studying, he was having dinners with his family and Hannah. Castiel had decided on pursuing Hannah’s hand for three important reasons. First, she was his father’s candidate, and he needed his father’s favor. Second, Castiel needed to make a good name for himself amongst those in Congress, and the majority of them were of nobility. By choosing Hannah, he would have the backing of the Carrolls and all of their allies. Third, and most importantly, Hannah had as little interest in Castiel as he had in her.

_“I don’t love you,” he admitted to her last month. “And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to. I’m saying this because I don’t want to lead you on.”_

_“You aren’t,” Hannah told him, bored. “I can see us loving each other as dear friends at best, but I know your heart belongs to another. I’ve smelt her scent on you since the minute I first scented you.”_

_“I… I’m sorry.”_

_“Don’t apologize for having something that is real. Everything around us is artificial. Every little thing is designed to be picturesque and make us the stuff of envy, but it’s all a fabrication.” She turned to him with serious eyes. “Even I know that I’m nothing more than a puppet that merely exists to play her part.”_

_“Hannah, you’re more than a puppet,” Castiel tried to argue, but she put a finger to his lips._

_“Don’t ruin your previous truth with pretty lies,” she whispered. “And do not erase my only truth with a lie. You see, when I look into a mirror I cannot see myself. The only thing I can see is the thing my parents want me to be.”_

_“Is there a way to lie to the mirror, so that the world sees what they want to see, but you remain yourself?” Castiel asked._

_Hannah shook her head. “That would involve knowing myself in the first place.”_

_“Perhaps it’s time that you learn? I think I would like to be friends with the real Hannah.”_

_Hannah had smiled her first real smile at that moment._

Now here he was, only a couple of days away from his coronation, and he had done it. His family was proud, Ishim was furious, and both Chuck and the Carrolls had talked about a public proposal after his coronation, so that the country knew that he was ready to settle down.

There was only one thing left to do, and that was to finally write to Dean. As much as Castiel wished to call or even text him, he knew the sound of Dean’s voice or seeing his real-time reply would make it that much harder to turn away from him.

Castiel also wanted to take his time with his words, in hopes of conveying how much Dean meant to him and that he was doing this to build a foundation of a happier future.

* * *

**Dear Dean,**

**I must apologize for cutting off contact the way I did, but I knew that the next few months would be hard, and the temptation to crawl back to you would have been too great. Even now I must stay away, but I promise you that it will not be permanent. The distance that I keep now is to ensure that we have a forever in the future.**

**I should also apologize for not being truthful with you before about my identity. You see, I’m not actually Castiel Novak. Novak was my mother’s maiden name. My real name is Castiel Edlund. As in Prince Castiel, fourth son of King Charles.**

**You might not believe me now, but I ask you to pay attention to the prince about to be sworn into office. His hair might be gelled down, and the clothes much finer than I usually wear, but he is me.**

**I wish I was brave enough to tell you before, but after hearing your complaints about me, the “lost prince,” I wasn’t sure if you would be willing to stay my friend if you knew the truth. As we grew closer, the fear also grew, and I didn’t want to risk you pushing me away.**

**I know you don’t have trust in this government, or my father’s rule, and I know both have done much to hurt you and others like you. That’s why I have to make things right, and to do that I need the power in order to make change.**

**With the position of Lord of Justice, I will make sure that my father is aware of the injustices going on in his name, and force him to see reason, or at least compromise.**

**I’m sure you can guess one of the first laws that I wish to change, but that is also the one that will take the longest. I hope you can forgive me for the wait.**

**I should also warn you that the betrothal with Lady Hannah will become official at the coronation as well. Hannah and I are both aware that this relationship is a farce, but we both have something to achieve from it, and plan to drag the betrothal out for as long as possible. With Hannah as my intended, I have the backing of her family and allies, so that Congress is more willing to accept some of the changes I plan to institute.**

**The benefit to Hannah is that she gets some freedom away from her family’s expectations, and is free to pursue her own interests for once.**

**Hannah is also aware that my heart is already spoken for, and has no desire to come between our relationship.**

**I know we have never spoken of a relationship, but I hope you do understand what I mean when I’ve said that my feelings for you were the opposite of hate. These aren’t just feelings of great affection, but feelings of love.**

**I love you, Dean. I love you more than I ever thought possible, and I cannot wait for the day that I can loudly proclaim it for the whole world to hear.**

**If you love me too, I beg that you don’t give up on me. That you continue to wait like you had promised to. It might take me longer than I’d like to return to you, but I will.**

**Yours, and only yours,**

**Cas**

* * *

Castiel carefully folded the letter over, and without thinking rubbed it against his scent gland. He hoped that Dean would be more willing to read it if it smelt like him.

He quickly stuffed the letter into an envelope, wrote the address down, and hoped that Dean would be able to forgive him.

Hoped that Dean didn’t think there was anything that needed to be forgiven.

Until then, there was still work to do.


	37. The Letter

“A letter from the palace came for you, son.” John’s gruff voice greeted Dean and Sam as they came into the house.

Dean did a double-take, not used to seeing their dad home during the daytime. At least not sober.

Sam, however, was double-taking in response to the other bit of information. “Why the hell do we have something from the palace?”

John shrugged, before reaching for his bottle of beer. “That’s what I’d like to know. It’s on the kitchen table.”

“Did you open it already?” Sam asked suspiciously.

“Of course I did,” John scoffed before gulping down more of his poison. “Had to make sure it wasn’t a fine or laced with something.”

“You know, opening another person’s mail without permission is technically against the law.” Sam scowled.

“You’re a minor, and Dean isn’t a true citizen until he’s twenty-five. I can do what I please.”

Sam opened his mouth, ready to chew John out, but Dean stopped him. “Sammy, knock it off.”

Sam’s smoky scent grew stronger, but he took the high road of stomping into the kitchen instead of letting their dad antagonize him more.

Dean glanced over at John. “What’s in the letter?”

“You’re going to have to read it for yourself,” John said with a shrug, before fishing for the TV remote and turning on the television.

“I’m surprised you’re home so early,” Dean said, trying to make some conversation.

“It’s not early when you’ve been at work since 3 AM,” John grouched, taking another swig of his beer.

“Right. Guess I don’t really know your work schedule anymore. Seems like it’s changing every day.”

Instead of answering, John put the volume on the TV louder until the sound of a college basketball game was loud enough to hurt Dean’s omega ears.

“You don’t have to be a damn asshole, you know,” Dean spat out, finally frustrated with his father’s behavior, and stormed into the kitchen.

Or rather stormed right into a cloud of confusing alpha pheromones, the scent strong enough to make Dean cough. “Fuck, Sammy, what’s got you all wound up?”

“It’s the letter,” Sam said breathlessly. “It’s for me. It’s about my military placement.”

“Why would the palace send you something? You should be getting yours from the Governor of Topeka.”

“Not just from the palace. I got a letter from the Lord of Defense himself, Prince Michael!”

Dean gaped at Sam, waiting for his brother to crack up and admit he was joking. He didn’t. “Hand it over.”

Sam did so quickly, like he was afraid touching it for too long would burn his hands. When Dean saw the official royal seal at the bottom, he felt the same way. “Son of a bitch, it _is_ real.”

Dean read through the letter three times, before finally accepting he read it right. “Holy hell, Cas was not kidding when he said he had connections.”

“What do you mean?” Sam looked bewildered.

“A while back—before you presented—Cas promised me that he had connections that could guarantee you a safer position. Hell, when you did present, he told me about this awesome law program you could get into, and here it is. Fuck, it says only five hundred kids total get chosen for this between all branches of military, and you got picked. I guess being top of your class helped. Says one of the requirements is that you have to be the top 10% of your class.”

“So what exactly does this mean?” Sam asked, looking too terrified to be hopeful.

Dean had to stop himself from tearing up. “It means, baby brother, that you’re going to be a lawyer. Not just that, but they think you’re good enough to work at the Capitol.”

Sam laughed in relief. “I’m going to make a difference.”

“You fucking will!” Dean agreed, and held the letter up high triumphantly.

Only for a second page to flutter to the floor.

“I didn’t read this page,” Sam said, picking it up, and then paling as he read through it. “Shit.”

“What is it?”

“We have to go to the Capitol this weekend. There’s a special debriefing for all applicants, and they are also inviting us and our guardians to watch the coronation the next day.” Sam’s fear mixed in with Dean’s own.

After so many years of hiding, going directly to the government that wanted Dean dead sounded like an awful idea.

“Maybe John will take me,” Sam said, trying and failing to sound optimistic.

Neither son believed John would be able to have his shit together enough to take Sam all the through Maryland without getting them into legal trouble.

“Hell, can we even afford it?” Sam asked.

Dean slowly shook his head. “We can’t afford the plane tickets, but we can drive there. It’s about a 20-hour drive. We can just take turns driving and get there without needing to stop at the motel.”

“Can you afford to take off?”

“I’ll have to dig into savings,” Dean admitted. “But I now have three years to rebuild it.”

Sam didn’t look satisfied.

Dean sighed. “Sam, this isn’t just about getting you a cushy job in the future, this is about making sure you survive _to_ the future. I’m not putting that at risk. I’ll take off and get you there myself.”

“But, Dean...” Sam pointed at his nose, and then at Dean.

“I know, Sam. I’ll be careful,” Dean promised. “Plus, it’d look more suspicious if we turned down their offer.”

Sam nodded in defeat, but then smiled wide, his scent turning back into its suburban summer scent. “You know what else is at the Capitol?”

“You mean besides your bright, shiny career?”

“Cas!”

Dean flinched, but managed to keep a decent hold on his scent. “I… yeah, he lives there. So what?”

“Maybe we should see if he’s free to meet up for dinner? I know he’s super busy with his apprenticeship and can’t come back down here until the summer, but maybe it will be different if we go up to see him?”

Dean didn’t know how to answer him.

Cas hadn’t just been busy the past couple of months; he was completely ghosting Dean. Their last conversation had been after New Years, right before Castiel had to return home with a warning to Dean that he would not be able to stay in touch like they had been in the past. Which, Dean understood, and had expected maybe a text once a week instead of every day. Or maybe just a phone call a month.

Not five months of radio silence.

Dean didn’t know how to tell Sam that Cas might have gotten bored of them. After all, Cas had been in the Capitol long enough to make new friends. Maybe he had befriend some of his coworkers, or even gotten friendly with his omega candidates.

“I don’t know how easy that will be. He’s really busy, Sam.”

Sam had the indecency to give him puppy dog eyes. “I know, I just… I want to see him before I have to be deployed. I won’t get to see him for another _three_ _years_ after that!”

Dean groaned. “Okay, I’ll make sure to send him a text and call him when we’re nearby. Just don’t set your hopes too high.”

“And don’t set yours too low,” Sam chastised back, before looking concerned again. “Who’s going to tell John?”

“I will, don’t worry.”

“What do we do if he says no?”

The thought of John being selfish enough to endanger Sam’s life pissed Dean off. “John gave up the right to parent us when he stopped being a dad and instead became a roommate.”

Sam seemed surprised but impressed with Dean’s answer. “Thanks, Dean.”

Dean patted Sam on the shoulder. “What did I tell you, Sammy? It’s you and me against the world. Where you go, I’ll follow, and vice versa. I’ll get you to Washington, D.C., no problem.”

“And you’ll stay safe?”

“We’ll both be safe.” Dean promised.


	38. A Grand Tour

Dean was in the belly of the beast.

It was the only way to describe how he was feeling as he looked around the grand halls that made up the Black Palace. The other parents and students on the tour were too busy gawking over the intricate designs, the diamond-crafted chandeliers, or any of the other stupidly expensive decorations, but all Dean could think about was how these were the halls the most corrupt people in the country walked down.

He wondered how they could sleep at night.

Then again, the expensive mattresses and down pillows probably helped.

“Fun fact,” the smug voice of their tour guide said. He was an average-sized beta with bronze hair, a crooked smile, and a penchant for putting hard candy in his mouth during the tour. “The Black Palace was built on the ruins of the White House that got burnt down in 1814. Great Gramps, or King Carver the First to you plebs, thought it would be poetic for the new Legion of America to reclaim its previous Capitol and rise from the ashes. There’s even an inside garden that still has some of the original framework. It’s also why this place is called “black” since it represents the ashes we were reborn from, or some nonsense like that.”

Dean was surprised that this tour guide still had a job. The worker knew his history well, but he was also informal, and acted like he owned the place.

“Do we get to see the garden on this tour?” Sam asked excitedly, clutching the disposable camera the tour had provided.

The students were allowed to take pictures, but they had to hand the cameras back over to the staff to develop them and verify which were safe to take home. Sam hadn’t taken any pictures yet, holding off until something really captivated his interests.

“Huh, don’t usually see alphas asking about the gardens.” The tour guide looked at Sam like he was part of his exhibit. “But sure, we can double around there after the rest of the tour. Who knows, might even see one of the royals lounging around.”

The other alpha students grumbled, but Sam turned excitedly towards Dean. “Cas would love to get pictures from the garden!”

“Cas might have already seen the garden. He probably took this tour when he was your age. Hell, for all we know he’s been here a dozen times.”

It still bothered Dean that he didn’t know how Cas had connections to the palace.

It also bothered Dean that Castiel was still ghosting them. He had left the alpha both a text message and a voicemail, telling Cas that they were in his neck of the woods for the next three days, and that they’d really like to have a moment to catch up with Cas during his free time.

Hell, Dean even had to remind Cas that Sam only had a month left until deployment, and it might be his last chance to see the kid before he left.

“Still, I think he’ll be touched that we thought about him,” Sam argued.

Dean doubted he was thinking about them. At least, not at that moment.

“Okay, enough idling and staring at walls. Time for me to take you to the old throne room. It’s only used for photo shoots now, but in its heyday it was where King Carver heard all sorts of testimonies and made laws. Looked badass for him, but really cramped for everyone else in those meetings.”

Dean robotically followed along with the group, tuning out all conversation that wasn’t directed at him from Sammy. At least the kid was having fun and absorbing every piece of information. Maybe on the drive back he’d ask Sam to recount everything that had happened during the tour.

But right now his head wasn’t in it. Not when it was still focused on a blue-eyed alpha.

Fuck, just being in the same city as Cas was messing with his nose. He kept getting phantom traces of Castiel’s scent. Sometimes the scent was so overpowering that Dean would forget that he wasn’t outside in the rain, but rather indoors in a stuffy old palace.

Hell, his brain was probably just confused since he was shoved in a room with a bunch of young alphas. Wouldn’t be too far off for one of them to have a similar enough scent to Castiel. Not like Dean hadn’t met another omega that smelt like apples before.

At least none of those alphas could smell him either. Dean went heavy with his hunter soap this morning, and even made hunter deodorant to go along with the spray he had in his jacket pocket.

Dean only snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a hard elbow to his ribs. He glared at Sam while rubbing at his poor ribs. The kid still didn’t realize his own strength.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized. “Gabriel is taking a small group of us to the gardens now, and that will be the end of the tour.”

“Awesome. Then afterwards let’s go find someplace to grab a bite, because I am starving!”

“Will Cas be joining us?”

Dean shook his head. “It’s been over a day and no answer. Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow.”

Sam’s face remained positive, but his scent said otherwise.

Dean didn’t have the heart to point it out.

“Alright, kiddies,” the tour guide interrupted. “Right through this door is our indoor garden. Created in 1920 as a gift to King Carver’s first wife. He wanted to create something as hauntingly beautiful as she was, and I think he did too good of a job.”

Dean agreed. All the framework of the building inside was scorched wood, the walkways were black marble surrounding rows of different types of plants, and the only light coming through was from the giant skylight that took up the whole ceiling.

There was also someone already in the garden, back facing the door that they all came in from so all that Dean could make out was gelled-down hair and a suit jacket that was common for the noble blood to wear.

Great, just what Dean needed. Them being judged by nobility.

He wasn’t expecting for Sam to break away from the tour group to approach the noble like a man on a mission. Dean tried to reach out to pull Sam back, but the kid only dodged him.

“Hey, kid,” the tour guide warned. “Don’t break from the group!”

But Sam ignored them all.

“Cas!” Sam exclaimed happily, practically pouncing on the noble before them, and Dean froze.

Dean was imagining how much trouble they were going to get into. The noble could press charges for harassment, and Sam might spend his last month before being deported in jail! All because his brother’s new nose made a mistake.

“Fuck, kid, hands off the royalty!” the tour guide screeched.

“It’s okay, Gabriel,” the noble said in a familiar husky voice that sent shivers through Dean’s spine. “I know this alpha.”

The alpha swiveled around to return Sam’s hug, and Dean felt like he must be delusional. Because the nobleman before them looked exactly like Cas.

“Hello, Sam,” the man said. “I’ve missed you too.”

There was chattering in the crowd, but Dean couldn’t hear a single word of it. Not when the man’s blue eyes were roaming around the room, only stopping when he found Dean.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said.

Dean wasn’t sure if he wanted to join Sam in hugging the man, or if he wanted to punch him in the face.

The tour guide, Gabriel, cleared his throat. “Okay, everyone who doesn’t know His Highness personally, get the hell out of here. Rachel can lead you back to the entrance, and make sure to hand your cameras over to her as you go.”

Dean didn’t turn around, but he could hear the sound of people moving behind him. Dean was too focused going over what the tour guide had said. He was only startled out of his musings at the sound of the door being slammed and locked behind them.

“So, Cassie? Who are your friends?” Gabriel asked.

“I’m surprised Father hasn’t banned you from giving tours yet,” Castiel complained, before finally letting Sam go.

“Ehh, he’d rather me annoy other people when I’m back home than him. Plus, who better to teach people about the royal family than part of the royal family?” Gabriel responded. “Now back to the point, who are your friends?”

“This is Sam, and his brother, Dean. They are… well, friends isn’t an adequate word. These boys are like family to me.”

“Huh.” Gabriel suddenly went from behind Dean’s back to inches away from his face. Dean tried and failed not to recoil at the sudden proximity. “So how do a bunch of country bumpkins befriend royalty?”

Castiel moved away from Sam in favor of shoving Gabriel away from Dean. “It’s a long story.”

“Just means we have to make the time to tell it.” Gabriel looked at his watch. “Well, this was my last tour, so I say we all have dinner.”

Gabriel then turned and looked at all of them. “By the way, that wasn’t a suggestion. That was very much an order from your prince.”


	39. Dinner And A Show

The place that Gabriel had chosen was one of those fancy restaurants that had a private VIP room for nobility to eat in. The prices of the items on the menu had so many zeroes attached to the ends of them that Dean was pretty sure he’d have to sell his kidney just to order a piece of toast. Even the water was expensive because it was shipped all the way from Sweden or something like that.

Just looking at the menu was giving Dean a stress ulcer, but past the menu led him to looking at Castiel’s face, which also made him agitated. Instead, Dean fixed his gaze on Castiel’s patch, eyes narrowing when he realized something was off about it.

“Even your patch was a lie?” Dean grumbled.

The patch Dean was used to was the simple white background with the blue A in the center, and the tiny symbol for the Air Force in the corner. This patch was bronze, with a gold A, and a sword and shield taking up the background of the A. Dean recognized that symbol as part of the royal seal.

Castiel put his hand over the patch, either to hide it, or remind himself which one he had on. “Oh… yes, the other is our standard civilian badge. We only wear the official badge during family events, or until we have proven ourselves worthy of the honor.”

“So why do you get to wear it now? And want to finally tell me who the hell you are?”

Castiel closed his eyes and muttered something about a letter.

“What was that?”

Castiel shook his head. “I’m Castiel, fourth son of King Charles. Soon to be Lord of Justice.”

Dean laughed without humor. “Yeah, I guess I can see how your dad’s job dealt with laws now.”

Castiel slumped lower into his seat under Dean’s unforgiving gaze.

“Wait,” Sam said, still a couple of steps behind the whole Cas being royalty thing. “You’re the ‘lost prince!’ The one that didn’t go back home on time!”

“Have to say, I’ve never been prouder of you, Cassie,” Gabriel teased, taking a big bite out of one of the complimentary breadsticks on the table. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“So let me get this straight, instead of going home to the palace, you stayed with us in Kansas?” Sam’s confusion melted away into a smile. “That’s so cool!”

Castiel relaxed a bit at Sam’s enthusiasm.

“Don’t get too excited. He’s been ghosting us for months,” Dean said, killing the confidence Castiel was slowly rebuilding.

“I told you, Dean,” Castiel pleaded softly. “I had an arduous task ahead of me, and I couldn’t take the risk of any distractions.”

“Yeah, I guess that is all we are to you.” Dean scoffed, looking away from Castiel and instead at the glass of water he couldn’t even afford to drink.

“You should know you both mean more to me than that,” Castiel snapped, his scent shifting from shame to aggravation. “So much that it makes it hard to want to focus on anything else, because all I want to do is spend every moment with you.”

“I hear you loud and clear,” Dean said calmly. “We’re _fun_ distractions.”

Castiel growled in frustration. “This isn’t the way things were supposed to happen.”

“Yeah, and how did you think it would all go down? That eventually enough time would pass and we would get the hint and move on? How do you think we were going to feel when we saw the coronation and realized it was you being crowned and sworn into office? Or did you think we’d be too dumb to notice?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, that’s not what I—”

“Or did you think that we would feel so honored to have been in your presence that we would have just accepted it all with a smile?”

“Dammit, Dean, would you at least let me finish my sentence?” Castiel yelled, slamming a fist against the table and leaving behind a small crater.

It was silent in the room now, the only sounds Dean could hear being Castiel’s heavy breathing, his own heart beating faster, and the crunch of Gabriel taking another bite of bread.

“Fine,” Dean growled. “Finish your sentence.”

Castiel rubbed his eyes. “The exact sentence isn’t important. All that I need you to know is that everything I’m doing, everything that I’m working for? It’s all for you, Dean. And Sammy.”

Dean stared willfully back.

“Didn’t you get my letter?” Castiel asked.

“We got the letter from the palace about Sam’s deployment, which is why we’re here.” Dean forced himself to calm down enough to look at Castiel with actual gratitude. “Thanks for that. I know he wouldn’t have gotten into the Law program without you.”

Castiel smiled in relief. “I’m glad that my recommendation went through. Michael was highly impressed with Sam’s scores, and said it would have been a shame if he had gone unnoticed.”

“Really?” Sam looked relieved.

Knowing Sam, the poor kid probably wondered if he didn’t deserve this award.

“Really.” Castiel nodded. “You have the makings of someone who will be an extraordinary lawyer.”

“That and young Samuel fits the ‘el’ club,” Gabriel said with a full mouth. “What? I can’t be the only one to notice that Dad has a hard-on for people whose names end in ‘el,’ or are angelic sounding.”

“Gabriel,” Castiel admonished.

“I’m just saying.” Gabriel shrugged, before reaching for his fourth breadstick.

Castiel turned away from Gabriel and returned his attention to Dean. “I apologize for my brother’s...crass ways. Also, I apologize that you didn’t get my letter—not the one from Michael about placements **—** but my personal letter to you. I… tried to explain what was going on, as best as I could.”

“And what is exactly going on? Because I’m pretty confused.” Dean crossed his arms.

“I’m trying to build enough power and prestige so that I can make a difference,” Castiel explained.

“Don’t you have enough? You’re going to be Lord of friggin’ Justice. I think you can say ‘mission accomplished’ now.”

“A title does not mean power, Dean. I need to have a strong backing to implement the changes I want to see.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“The kind of law that will let me do _this_ in public.” Castiel reached over and gripped Dean’s face.

Dean had braced himself for a hard, bruising grip, but instead it was a firm yet tender touch. Like Castiel was holding a fragile egg. Even the fiery look in his eyes died down as he looked at Dean.

Dean swallowed, unable to get any words out.

“Oh, I didn’t think we were going to take this kind of turn,” Gabriel said before shoving the bread basket at Sam. “Don’t make me eat all of this by myself, kid, because I will.”

Castiel reluctantly let Dean go, but his eyes stayed fixed on him. “You know how much I care about you, and how much I want to be with you. Don’t let the station I was born into blind you to that.”

“That’s not what…” Dean looked away. “I don’t like the secrets.”

“Our friendship was built on secrets, and we have acknowledged from the beginning that we had things that we weren’t ready to admit.” Castiel reached over to hold Dean’s hand, only to grip air when Dean moved his hand out of the way.

Castiel continued to stare at that empty space. “I was afraid that if you knew who I was, you’d only pull away from me… was I wrong?”

Dean didn’t have an answer for that.

“Do you…” Castiel gulped. “Do you still ‘opposite’ me? Because I don’t think I can ever stop feeling that way for you.”

Dean ignored Gabriel whispering to Sam about what the heck they were talking about, and focused on Castiel’s sad eyes, and the growing stench of polluted water. “Of course I do, Cas. But I need to know some things. Like how long you’re going to be distancing yourself from us. Is this cold shoulder just going to be how it is for the next year? The next five? Twenty?”

Castiel didn’t reply, and Dean scoffed.

“I know I said I would wait for you, man, but I said I would wait for _you_. I’m not going to wait around for a stranger to show up on my doorstep ten years too late.” Dean got up from his seat and gestured for Sam to do the same.

Dean looked at Gabriel. “Thanks, Your Highness, for inviting us to share this meal, but this really isn’t our scene.”

Gabriel pouted. “No fair, I was getting dinner and a show.”

“Well you’ll just have to find some other entertainment,” Dean grumbled.

Dean looked back at Castiel, the alpha’s face looking distraught. “I guess I’ll be seeing you again at your coronation. Have a good life.”

“Dean,” Castiel begged.

Dean waited a beat, but Castiel didn’t say the words Dean was hoping he’d say.

Castiel didn’t ask him to stay.

“Let’s go, Sammy,” Dean barked, and Sam made no arguments in following him to the door.


	40. What Are You Afraid Of

Dean could only remember flashes of the ceremony, despite it taking two hours to get through. He remembered watching Prince Castiel get up on stage, his entire appearance and stance different from the Cas he knew. He remembered Castiel being crowned with a silver coronet, and being sworn into his new duties as Lord of Justice. At one point Castiel made a pretty speech, vowing that he would do everything he could to perform his duties to the fullest.

There was one part he remembered clearly. The moment when King Chuck announced how proud he was of his son, and also to congratulate him on his recent betrothal to Lady Hannah, and even welcomed her onstage.

Miss honeysuckle herself.

Castiel and Hannah both smiled prettily, leaning into each other, and looking like the perfect power couple.

Dean was grateful that his strength wasn’t powered by fury, or else he would have gripped his seat tight enough to break it. Fortunately, his scent didn’t give away what he was feeling.

Dean couldn’t say the same about Sam, as his scent was growing smokier by the minute, until Dean had to nudge his knee and warn him to cut it out or they’d have security on their asses.

Once the ceremony concluded, Sam and Dean both rushed out of there as fast as they could, neither one of them slowing their fast pace until they were inside Baby. Even once inside the car, they didn’t speak until the Capitol was nothing but a speck in the distance.

“Do you...want to talk about it?” Sam asked Dean.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I really am. But he did say he still—”

“Sam, I said I didn’t want to talk about any of this.”

“Yeah, but maybe you should? You could get it off your chest?”

“What’s even the fucking point.” Dean took his eyes off the road long enough to glare at Sam. “Hell, for all I know he could be listening to what we are saying right now. And if he’s not, then another member of his family is!”

“Okay. Maybe we can listen to the radio?” Sam flipped the dial, and immediately switched it off when they heard the start of a Legion announcement. “I meant listening to your tapes! Today feels like a Led Zepp day.”

Dean was grateful that he had such an awesome brother, and they spent the majority of the ride singing along as obnoxiously and as off-key as they could.

It wasn’t until they had pulled into a motel for the night—since they only had a one-day permit to drive through the night—that Sam finally asked Dean again to tell him what was going on. Or rather write it out.

_What’s really bugging you? Is it because Cas is royalty? Or because he ghosted you?_

Dean thought for a moment before answering.

**No. It’s because he’s changing himself, Sam**

_How?_

**You didn’t see him when you hugged him. He hesitated**

**Even when he was looking for me, he had this look in his eyes like he hoped I wasn’t in the crowd**

**I saw the disappointment the moment he spotted me**

Sam studied him, before turning back to the notepad.

_What are you afraid of?_

Dean was too tired to lie.

**A lot of things. Cas has so much power over us**

“He would never do anything to hurt us. He’s not like that!” Sam sounded offended.

**Fine, what about his DAD? This is the bastard that ordered Mom’s death! And Grandma Deanna’s, and who knows how many other people like me**

**I doubt he’s going to accept his son being in sinful love with someone like me**

**Especially not when he was so excited that Cas was going to be marrying that omega**

**Cas is going to get himself in so deep that he’s never going to want to come out of the fancy hole he made**

_But he’s your TRUE MATE._

**We never solidified the bond**

**And even if we did he’d still get over me with time**

**He’s already admitted that Hannah smells really good to him. And at this point he’s probably spent as much time with her as he did with me**

_He said he loves you!_

Dean closed his eyes, wishing he could believe those words. When he opened them again, he knew that he couldn’t.

**He said he doesn’t hate me**

**And he let me go**

**If he cared he would have stopped us**

“So are you giving up on him?” Sam croaked.

Dean shook his head. “He has my number and my address. He can reach out whenever he wants, but I’m not going to be holding my breath until he does. He’s living his life, making his future, and we have to do the same thing.”

“What future is that?” Sam’s eyes were big and curious.

Dean paused and looked up at the ceiling. “I was thinking it could be in California. You said you wanted to go to Stanford? Well, that military program will get you in, no problem. So let’s move around there.”

Sam smiled happily, but then frowned. “Dean… what are you going to do while I’m deployed? It’s three years. And… I don’t want you to stay with John. I know how being around him stresses you out now.”

“I’ll figure something out. Maybe find out if Bobby’s willing to rent a room out to me. Would mean no commute time, especially when I start taking over the business.”

“Do you like being a mechanic?” Sam asked as he crawled into his own bed. “Is it actually a good fit for you?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I like it. Sometimes I get a little bored with the routine stuff, but I have a lot of fun with the big projects, like when I have to rebuild the car or the engine. Maybe once I put in my fifteen years in, I can specialize in reconstruction and never have to worry about doing another oil change.”

“I think you’ll be good at that,” Sam said, before yawning.

“Yeah? You know, I think you’ll be a pretty badass lawyer.” Dean smiled, and just took a second to appreciate how much the tiny infant he had saved from a house fire had grown.

How much growing was still left to do, and it hurt knowing that he was going to miss out on three years of it.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam asked, his voice melancholy. “Is it bad to be happy that I got this military position?”

Dean sat up in his bed. “Why the hell would it be a bad thing?”

“Okay, not bad, but selfish. I mean… I know that I’m going to be making it home once I’m twenty-one. But my alpha classmates? They’re going to die, aren’t they?”

Dean said nothing, but that was answer enough.

“Are we no better than those people you’ve complained about? Since we had to use connections to get this position?”

“We had to use connections to get you noticed, but you earned that spot yourself. You had the knowledge and skills to back it up,” Dean said angrily. “I’m not going to apologize or feel bad for giving you the advantage you deserve.”

“Should I tell anyone I got into this program, or should I keep it secret?”

Dean thought it over. “We can tell the important people, but don’t let it get around class or the neighborhood. We don’t need any extra eyes on us.”

“Okay…” Sam trailed off, but it sounded like he wanted to say more. “Is it bad that I’m really going to miss you?”

“Kid...” Dean’s voice cracked. “You’d be so friggin’ wrong if you think that I won’t be missing you like crazy.”

Suddenly Dean didn’t care that they were getting too old for sharing a bed; all he could think about was that his days with Sam were numbered, and he was going to miss his shaggy-haired brother so much. In just a second he went from looking back and forth between their beds to springing out of his own and rolling into Sam’s.

“Oof,” was Sam’s only complaint, but he made no move to get away from Dean, making Dean think he needed the cuddle pile as much as he did.

Who said only omegas needed affection?

“Night, bitch.”

“Night, jerk.”


	41. Moving On

“Think I’ll still fit in this in three years?” Sam asked, holding up his favorite and softest sweater.

“Yeah, definitely,” Dean said, taping up the box he just finished packing. “As a belly shirt.”

Sam chucked the shirt at Dean’s head. “This sucks, all the clothes I want to keep are things I’m going to outgrow.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll have more hand-me-downs to give you when you come back.”

“Let’s face it, I’m going to be outgrowing you as well.”

Dean glared, hating the fact that Sam was already half an inch taller than Dean now.

Stupid alpha genes.

“You might still fit in the same jeans,” Garth pointed out from where he was sorting through Sam’s bookcase, getting first dibs on any of the books and comics that he wanted to read. “It just looks like you won’t be able to share the same shirts because Sam’s getting a longer torso.”

Dean paused from setting up his next box, and looked at Garth. “How do you even know that?”

Garth shrugged. “I have a lot of pictures of the two of you side by side, and I noticed it.”

“Garth, anyone ever tell you that you’re a creepy kid?” Dean asked seriously.

“Yes. You,” Garth replied, equally serious. “Oh, speaking of pictures, I have copies of the photos I took at Wichita for you before I go.”

“Ugh, I’m so jealous that you got to go with them to Wichita,” Jo complained from her spot on Sam’s bed. She had come to help with packing, but had yet to do anything but make commentary. “And got to stay at a five-star hotel.”

“The ice cream sundaes and room service were pretty awesome,” Sam admitted fondly.

“We ate _so_ _much_ ice cream,” Garth said dreamily.

“Lucky. I didn’t get to use my room service,” Dean complained, putting more of Sam’s winter clothes away in the box marked for Goodwill.

“That’s because you spent all your time in bed with Cas,” Sam teased, but then flinched when he realized what he said.

Dean refused to acknowledge the slip-up as he loudly taped over the Goodwill box.

“How is… His Highness doing?” Garth asked nervously.

It didn’t take long for their closest friends to put together that the newly crowned Prince Castiel was the same Cas that they had all shared a meal with.

“I’m sure you can check the news if you want. Or the tabloids if you want all the deets on him and his _fiance_ ,” Dean spat. He thought he was above being petty, but turned out he wasn’t.

An awkward silence filled the room as everyone got back to work. Jo even made herself useful by going over to Sam’s bookcase and checking out his CDs. “I can’t believe you still have this Celine Dion CD I got you as a prank.”

“I just put it in my bookcase and never even opened it,” Sam lied.

Dean knew for a fact that it was Sam’s most played CD, even if the kid only listened to it in his walkman. The melody might have been too soft for a beta to hear, but the omega could hear her tunes blasting from the other side of the room.

“Really?” Dean could hear the smirk in Jo’s voice as she pulled the CD out. “Then why is the case empty?”

“Umm...” Sam never was the best liar.

Jo laughed. “I _knew_ you liked her!”

“She does have some smooth vocals,” Garth defended, to no one’s surprise.

“And a nice bod,” Dean pointed out.

Jo just laughed again, before continuing to go through the bookcase. “Awwww, it’s our freshman yearbook. Look how tiny we all were.”

“Tiny? Jo, I hate to break it to you, but you haven’t grown an inch since then,” Dean reminded her, and had a paperback thrown at his hip for his comments. “Yeesh, why are the Harvelle women so violent?”

“They might only be violent towards you because you’re an ass,” Sam pointed out. “Hey, you don’t outgrow socks, right?”

“Normal people don’t, but you have Sasquatch genes, so who knows.” Dean smirked.

“Oh come on, be serious.”

“I am! It makes sense as to why you’re so tall, and how you are so hairy.”

Sam angrily turned his head away, his luscious locks swirling away behind him.

“You know, they’re going to make you shave that all off when you get deployed,” Dean pointed out, laughing at the distressed smell that was coming off Sam. “Hey, it will grow back.”

“And then you’ll never have to cut it again,” Jo teased.

“Don’t say that, or his hair will be longer than yours, Barbie.” Dean got yet another book thrown at him for that comment. “Curb your violence, Harvelle! The books that you two aren’t borrowing come with me.”

“What’s going on here?” John’s angry voice demanded from the doorway, making everyone freeze. The Winchester house was usually John-free, and it was now disconcerting whenever he was around.

“Packing, sir,” Dean said curtly.

“I got that, smartass. But why?”

“Sam’s getting deployed in two weeks and we need to go through the stuff that he’ll still want when he gets back,” Dean said, keeping a tight grip on his smell.

“You mean _if_ he comes back,” John said bitterly.

“No, I said _when_ for a reason,” Dean snapped. “Sam worked hard to get a military position that also acts as a college program.”

“You mean you fucked around with royalty so he would get a cozy spot,” John spat.

Everyone in the room froze, taken aback by John's accusation.

“What did you say?” Dean asked calmly, even though he was shaking so hard he wanted to throw up.

“You heard me,” John snarled, his new car scent turning more into the scent of a vehicle on fire. “I’m not fucking stupid, Dean. Everyone around town was talking about the strange alpha that you’d been hanging all over whenever he was in town. It’s disgusting.”

_You don’t want to be like one of those other omegas who’re desperate for an alpha’s knot._

John had always viewed him differently since Dean turned into a pathetic omega. Even his wife turned out to be a big, strong alpha, but Dean was just the weak link in the family.

But omegas themselves were not weak.

Dean’s gaze drifted towards Jo, the most badass omega he’s ever met. Despite only being eighteen, the girl refused to accept the prejudice that came with their designation, and fought for her spot in the classroom for her forensic science major.

She was going to be the first omega in Midwest history to go to college, and the first omega in the country’s history to get a Master’s.

Would Dean really let someone get away with saying the same shit to Jo as he let John say to him?

No. No he fucking wouldn’t.

“You know what, I am so tired of your bullshit, John,” Dean said, his voice raised but not reaching yelling volume. “You can’t just come home after weeks of disappearing and expect us to be waiting around for you, and that things would be the same as you left it. I’m not a little kid anymore, and you have no right to judge my life.”

“What you’re doing is illegal.”

“I haven’t broken any laws,” Dean snapped, because there were no direct laws against two men kissing or sharing a bed in private. “And even if I did—and it was all to keep Sam safe—then who are you to judge? You told me to always put Sammy first, and guess what? I have.”

“So you used this Castiel?”

“Fuck, no.” Even as angry as Dean was at Cas, he could never excuse what they had together as Dean using him. Hell, he couldn’t even describe what they had as a fling. “He means too much to me for that, but I won’t lie and say that he didn’t help us out when we really needed it.”

“Wait,” Sam said, puzzled. “How do you even know who Cas really is? You never saw his face, and none of us would have told you about his family.”

John’s silence only made Dean more suspicious.

“Cas said he sent me a letter… you read it, didn’t you?” Dean realized. “You read it and hid it from me! What the fuck, John!”

“It wasn’t anything you needed to read, Dean. He was trying to string you along, keep you as a side mistress while he did his thing.”

“You had no right to read my personal stuff and make that decision for me!”

“I am trying to protect this family.”

“If you gave a damn about us, you would get your drunk ass into rehab!” Dean yelled.

“I don’t have a drinking problem,” John snarled.

“I can smell whiskey on your breath right now.” Dean stomped over towards John, blocking him from coming any further into the tiny bedroom. “Hell, your alcoholism is how we ended up in so many of the messes that Cas had to clean up.”

“How dare you—”

“Don’t like the reality check? If you got help and got sober, we would have good health insurance. You could have made an appeal and gotten your mechanic job back, we could have afforded a house that actually has enough room for all of us, and we could have paid for that fancy private school that would have made sure Sam wasn’t on the front lines! Or used _your_ military connections to get him this spot.”

“You had all of these chances to get help, Dad,” Sam agreed, standing beside Dean and emitting alpha protectiveness. “Don’t be mad at us because we’re moving on with our lives.”

“You’re being deployed, but Dean’s staying here,” John growled.

“Actually, I’m moving in with Bobby,” Dean informed him. “As soon as I drop Sam off, I’m turning around and moving into his extra room. He’s charging me pretty cheap too. Much less than I’ve had to pay for all your expenses.”

“If you keep talking shit, I’ll throw you all out of my house now.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Sam snarled. “This is Dean’s house too, considering he’s been paying most of the bills.”

“You know what? It’s not worth it, Sammy.” Dean turned his attention back to John. “Give us til the end of the day and we’ll be gone. If Bobby doesn’t have extra room then we’ll rent a motel. Until then, stay the fuck out of the way.”

“Is that a threat?” John stomped closer into the room, getting uncomfortably close into Dean’s face.

Before, Dean would have recoiled, but now it just made him angrier. Thinking about Sam, Dean pushed John out of the way, hard enough to send him careening into the hallway. “It wasn’t, but now it is. Now sleep off the alcohol, and we’ll be gone before you know it.”

Not giving John the chance to reply, Dean loudly slammed the door,] and turned the lock. When he turned around he saw three concerned teenage faces. “Come on, guys, we’ll have to work a little faster than planned. We’re moving out today.”

“At least we have plenty of boxes?” Sam said, trying to be positive.

“At least we can spend the rest of your time in Kansas John-free,” Dean promised. “Now someone turn on the radio. We need to be listening to some tunes if we want to get everything done in the next couple of hours.”

In the end, it only took one, as Dean and Sam realized that there wasn’t much that they needed to keep. It was also a little poetic for them to both start fresh together.


	42. Breakthrough

Castiel had survived five months without Dean’s company, but the week following his coronation was even harder.

Perhaps it was because the last time he had said goodbye with a heavy heart but bright spirits in knowing that they would see each other again soon. They had also departed after a tantalizing kiss that Castiel could swear was so electric that he could still feel the lingering touch days later.

But this time, he didn’t get a true goodbye from Dean. He had to watch with cold dread as Dean took Sam away and left him behind.

Castiel couldn’t even run after them like his heart longed to do. His feet had been cemented to the ground, and his brain had been short circuiting too bad to even figure out how to force his legs to power through. By the time he finally came to his senses, Sam and Dean were nowhere in sight.

During the coronation, he tried to find them again in the crowds, but there were too many people, and too many overwhelming scents for him to pick up. Despite his best efforts, he’d lost them again.

“You look miserable,” Hannah commented, pulling Castiel back into the present, which was another boring social party of a nobleman in Congress.

Castiel wished she had let him be.

“It’s alright to look miserable as long as I don’t smell it,” Castiel commented, but did a quick sniff test on himself just to make sure.

“Yes, but it’s a party. You should be enjoying yourself.” Hannah looked around the ballroom. “We should be dancing.”

Castiel sighed, but took Hannah’s hand and let her drag him to the center of the dance floor.

“Why are you wearing all black? I thought you were going to wear your blue suit jacket,” Hannah remarked. “You look like you’re going to a funeral later.”

Castiel felt like he already was at one.

“You should just be grateful that the outfit matches,” he said instead.

Hannah pursed her lips. “Maybe you should think about having a servant help you choose your clothes?”

“And lose more control of my life like you? I’d rather not.”

Hannah looked at him with betrayed eyes, but Castiel couldn’t make himself feel bad at this moment. That involved more energy than he was capable of.

It felt like when Dean had walked away and taken Castiel’s heart with him, leaving Castiel with nothing but a vacant hole that was desperately trying to keep him alive.

“If you feel like you’re losing so much control in your life then why are you still here?” Hannah quipped.

Why _was_ he still here?

“Because I have people to consort with,” Castiel reminded himself.

“Then ‘consort’ after this song, and try to look like you’re having fun.”

He did, and as he did, he remembered why he hated talking to people, and that Hannah was no better at socializing than he was. He also forgot how spoiled and set in their ways the people were.

“Every alpha needs to go to war, you can’t change that,” Congress member Asmodeus stated during their conversation, looking at Castiel in shock.

“I know, but we don’t need to be actively engaging in as many wars as we’ve been. Why are we even fighting any of them? Do you even know how many countries we are currently fighting against?” Castiel questioned.

“Two?”

“Twelve,” Castiel said. “And over petty reasons like resources. And once one country surrenders, we move onto another!”

“How else would we get the goods we can’t produce on our soil?” The Congressman sounded confused, as did some of the other members around him.

“It’s called _trading_ ,” Castiel said exasperatedly.

“But that costs money,” someone else complained.

“So does war!”

“Not when you win and make the losing country pay out.” The Congressman and his companions laughed.

Hannah had to pull Castiel away before he tried to break Asmodeus’ nose.

The next group they tried to talk to didn’t work any better.

“But why would omegas need a college education?” Raphael, Lord of Education, asked in bewilderment. “There’s no point in it, not when their alpha is going to make enough money to provide for both of them. That and they’ll be too busy taking care of their kids to focus on their schoolwork.”

“What about those who don’t want to marry or have kids until they have a career established?” Castiel asked.

Raphael laughed. “Clearly you’ve never talked to an omega before. It’s part of their instincts to want an alpha and children above everything. You should ask your omega.”

Hannah didn’t answer, but moved them to the next group, and the next, with no good results.

“Why do you want to get rid of the omega insurance?” Zachariah from Treasury asked, appalled.

“Because it’s not fair that we are making people pay for love,” Castiel argued. “It also alienates couples who can’t afford the exorbitant fee, and thus can’t get married.”

“Well, then, they should just stay in their lane and marry their correct partner type. Betas should stay with betas, and only alphas are strong enough to provide for an omega’s needs.”

Castiel didn’t dare bring up marriage equality for the same genders if there were so many issues with alphas marrying female betas, and male betas marrying omegas.

After an hour of fruitless mingling, he found himself staring at the open bar, and debated how much alcohol it would take to make the rest of this night go by painlessly.

He had a feeling the answer was drinking the entire bar.

“You smell miserable,” Hannah said, before ordering a sweet omega cocktail that Castiel wished he was allowed to order.

He missed Mai Tais.

He missed _Dean’s_ Mai Tais.

Fuck, he just missed Dean.

“I feel like I’m accomplishing nothing here,” Castiel admitted.

“You’re not.” Hannah didn’t meet his eyes, instead watching the bartender as he made her drink. “You’re trying to change the minds of men too set in their ways.”

“Then how can I make any changes?” Castiel demanded.

“By helping those who haven’t formed an opinion yet.”

“I don’t know how to do that either!” Castiel complained, before banging his head against the table.

“Your misery is growing stronger,” Hannah commented.

“I’m trying to keep it under control, but it’s hard, Hannah! I don’t even want to be here.”

“Then where do you want to be?” Hannah asked.

In Kansas, with his real family.

“There are two roads you can take right now, Castiel.” Hannah swirled her drink with her straw. “You can accept this world that you were born into, and slowly make changes over your lifetime. Or you can rebel, enter uncharted territory, probably change nothing, and deal with the consequences.”

“Neither sounds good,” Castiel admitted. “What would you do?”

“The first.” Hannah took a drink. “We’re a good match, Castiel. You can be a wise leader, and I would be proud to serve by your side. We would have children with raven hair and sapphire eyes who we can also raise to be good people. We can still make a difference, but they will be small ripples instead of the waves you want.”

Castiel tensed. “I didn’t realize our betrothal factored into this.”

“Well, it does. It all does. You can’t keep living on the fence. Either you live here with me, or you go back to your countryside omega,” Hannah said with a surprising amount of venom.

“Hannah…” Castiel said, but Hannah stormed off. “Hannah, wait!”

He followed her out into the hallway, where she whirled around. “What does she have that I don’t? I come from excellent breeding! I know multiple languages, am proficient in the harp, have a strong background in politics, and have enough money in my dowry to live lavishly for the rest of my life. Does she have any of that?”

“No,” Castiel admitted. “But… my true mate is amazing. So kind and generous, the type who would give the shirt off of their back. Loyal, funny, and so charismatic that you can’t help but like them. I miss spending hours doing nothing but talk with them. I miss my true mate, and that’s never going to stop.”

“It will if you move on. Just say goodbye, and come home to me. Fully.” Hannah moved closer and grabbed his hands.

Her hands were too small, and too soft. Everything about them felt wrong.

“Hannah, I can’t.” He dropped her hands like they burned, stepped away from her, and shook his head. “I thought we had an understanding. I told you that I don’t love you.”

“Look around, do you think anybody in this building actually loves each other?” Hannah asked. “No, this is all about playing our roles!”

“Maybe I don’t want to be a puppet, Hannah,” Castiel said gently. “I want something real.”

“Then why are you still here pretending?”

Castiel paused, realizing there _was_ no good reason. “You’re right. I’m doing no good expecting that I can make immediate changes by playing their games. I might understand all of their rules, but they know all the tricks.”

Hannah nodded slowly. “So you’ll put an end to this nonsense?”

“Of course,” Castiel agreed, raking his hands through his hair and freeing it from the gel gunk that was in it. He didn’t care if it looked like a mess. “I’m giving up playing their game, and instead will be playing my own.”

“What are you doing?” Hannah looked at him in confusion.

“I’m going back home, and hoping that my true mate hasn’t given up on me yet,” he said, walking away and not bothering to look back.


	43. Brave Enough

“Okay, Dean, the last thing is loaded,” Sam announced, slamming Baby’s trunk shut. They had decided to leave all the donation boxes behind, and Dean would go back another day to deal with it. “Are you sure you're still okay with me going over Garth’s house for a sleepover?”

The worry coming off of Sam was palpable, so Dean messed up Sam’s long hair to make him indignant instead.

“It’s good, kid, plus you deserve to have some one-on-one time with your bestie.” Dean smiled.

It was also less stressful for Dean to find quick and temporary lodging for one person instead of two.

“If you’re sure,” Sam said, and debated something for a moment before throwing himself at Dean in a giant bear hug. “Thanks, Dean. And I’m so proud of you for telling Dad off.”

Dean returned the hug just as tight. “I should have done it years ago, but at least we don’t have to put up with that anymore.”

John didn’t stay in the house while they were packing, and didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye. The only warning they even got that he was leaving was the front door slamming, and then his truck squealing as he raced off.

“Thank God for small miracles,” Sam joked.

“Speaking of small miracles, it looks like Ellen is here,” Dean noted, reluctantly pulling away from Sam’s hug.

Ellen parked in John’s spot and looked absolutely livid as she got out of the car. “I swear, boys, if your father has the nerve to show his face back in my bar, it’s getting met with my shotgun. Throwing his own kids out like this.”

“He didn’t throw us out, Ellen. We left,” Dean pointed out.

“He put you in the position where you felt more comfortable leaving than staying. It’s the same thing,” Ellen argued.

“Well, what’s done is done. Now the only thing to do is find a place to stay until then,” Dean said.

“Will Bobby let you move in early?” Ellen asked.

“Yeah, but there’s only a single bed in the guestroom so it’s not going to be the most comfortable stay for both of us,” Dean admitted. “I kinda wish that place Cas rented before was actually for rent. I wouldn’t mind popping a couple of extra credits to stay there for two weeks.”

“Yeah, that place was great,” Sam agreed, but Dean could also smell the lingering sadness.

He missed Cas too.

“Anyway, I’ll figure something out,” Dean assured them. “Maybe go clear up Bobby’s house enough to make room for an air mattress. Something.”

“Alright, just don’t forget that you have work with me tonight,” Ellen said with a wink. “Oh, and come here. I have a future housewarming present for you.”

Curious, Dean moved closer as she dropped a familiar-sized weight in his hand. It was the strange walkman-shaped EMP.

“You deserve to have one of your own,” Ellen said. “Just don’t overuse it, and don’t get a pattern going. Just use it on an as-needed basis.”

Dean looked at the device in relief. “Thanks, Ellen. I’ll use it wisely.”

Ellen patted his shoulder, before turning to the teenagers. “Okay, everyone in my truck now. I have things to do and places to be.”

The teens waved goodbye to Dean, and Sam gave him one last hug. “Don’t stay too long cleaning up the place.”

“I won’t, but I have to make more than a month’s supply of soap, just to be safe. I don’t think Bobby’s dinky stove can handle the volumes I usually make. Hell, I don’t know if his stove even works.”

Sam made a face as he pulled away. “You know, it’s a good thing you’re moving in with him. He’ll actually get some real food.”

“Yeah, and will probably bitch about it as well.” Dean ruffled Sam’s hair. “See ya later kid. Try to actually get some sleep tonight.”

“You’re the one working past midnight,” Sam complained before scurrying off to Ellen’s car.

Dean waved goodbye to everyone one last time, before heading back inside. He had four hours’ worth of making soap to look forward to.

Or at least he thought he did, but by his second hour there was loud banging going on outside his door.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean complained.

He swore, if John had forgotten his house keys when he stormed off then he deserved to be locked outside. Or at least until Dean was done putting his first batch of soap into the molds.

The banging continued, and once the last mold was poured in, Dean finally got the door.

“What the hell do you want?” Dean demanded as he swung the door open, but the black-haired man he expected to be on the doorstep was not the one he currently saw. “Cas?”

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” Castiel said, his eyes as wild as his hair. “I was so sure that I could quickly change the world, and then go back to you as soon as things got better. But things will _never_ magically get better, and change can’t happen if I continue hiding in the shadows as well.”

“Cas, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I love you, Dean,” Castiel said, falling to his knees as he did so, like the words were too heavy for him to bear alone. “I love you, and I’m foolish to have thought that I could last another day without having you know that as well.”

“Freak, Cas.” Dean looked around, but luckily they had no nearby neighbors, and there were no passersby that could overhear them. “Come on, get in the house. But don’t say anything else until I tell you so.”

Castiel nodded, following Dean inside towards the kitchen. He did a double-take at all of the soap on the kitchen table, but didn’t comment. Dean raised the volume of the radio he had been listening to, and then pulled out Ellen’s EMP. He mimed for Cas to cover his ears before pressing the button.

Despite this being the third time he used the friggin’ device, he still wasn’t ready for the intense pain. “Fuck, that hurts.”

“Dean? What was that thing?” Castiel asked, his ears still covered.

Dean used his own hands to remove Castiel’s from his ears. “It’s something that will prevent anyone else from listening in. Or at least for three songs’ worth of time. So talk fast, because I have something I need to tell you as well.”

Castiel maneuvered his hands so that they were now gripping Dean’s, and he pulled Dean’s hands to his mouth to give them a kiss. “I’ve missed you.”

“You’re the one who’s stayed away for so long,” Dean reminded him.

“I know.” Castiel closed his eyes. “It was foolish, but I had hoped that if I could stay away from you for one year that I would have a year’s worth of work and changes underway. That I could come back to you as a successful alpha that you could be proud of. That I wasn’t just another arrogant, spoiled nobility.”

Dean looked at Cas in surprise. “You thought I wouldn’t like you?”

“I wouldn’t blame you. I can see now that many people live in fear under my father’s rule. That things aren’t an Eden like he claimed it would be. There’s still so much suffering going on, and people are too stubborn or selfish to accept it.”

“So are you giving up on changing the world?” Dean asked.

“I’m giving up on trying to change the nobility. I swear, I would have better luck trying to teach poetry to fish than have the nobles understand the consequences of their actions,” Castiel admitted. “Instead, I need to fight to make sure that I can get good people into Congress. People still have the right to vote for their Congressmen, and non-nobility can run.”

“Congress can only do so much,” Dean pointed out. “The King gets the final say on everything.”

“The King won’t live forever,” Castiel said. “But any of his alpha sons can run, and no one knows which of my brothers was born first. We can use this as an opportunity to split the rule evenly, but also limit both of their powers. Make it so the people have more of a say.”

Dean snickered. “What, like the original United States wanted?”

“Exactly. Though we can move away from the part where only white, landowning alphas have the right to vote.” Castiel smiled.

“Good call. Hell, maybe make it so that everyone has only one vote? Because married alphas having three votes is complete bullshit.”

“I agree, though speaking of married alphas...” Castiel moved closer towards Dean and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I want it to be legal for any gender or subgender to marry whoever they want, with no fees. Even… alphas marrying alphas.”

The way Castiel said that made Dean’s eyes widen. “Wait… do you think I’m an alpha?”

“I know you’ve never outright admitted it, but I know your nose is as sensitive as mine, and you are as strong as me. Though your omega scent and failed alpha test did have me puzzled until you explained your family’s mutation.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile. Damn, Cas was willing to love him, thinking that they were the same gender and subgender. Talk about double homo. Maybe he wouldn’t have an issue with the truth.

“I’m not an alpha, Cas. Not even one with a mutation.”

Castiel frowned, confused. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Dean swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. “I-I’m actually an omega-male. Mom was an alpha-female, and so on. Apparently my great-grandfather was an omega-male as well who… gave birth to my grandmother, and that’s why the genetics for it is so strong.”

Castiel stared at him in shock, and Dean slowly took his hand away.

“I get it, I’m even more of a freak of nature than you—” The rest of Dean’s words were lost as Castiel attacked his mouth.

Before, kisses with Castiel felt like being in a light summer storm, with the sun shining down on them. This kiss was not like that. It felt like kissing in the pouring rain, in the middle of a turmoiled lake, with lightning striking dangerously close to them. So close that Dean could feel the static electricity make his hair stand on end. Castiel kissed him like a starving man, and clung to him like he was afraid that the waves would tear them apart.

“You are not a freak,” Castiel growled. “What you are is a miracle. You are perfect in every way, and things make so much more sense now.”

“Why?” Dean hoped it wasn’t some alpha masculinity bullcrap.

“Because I always felt like you were the omega I belonged to, and I was right,” Castiel said with a laugh before reclaiming Dean’s lips.

That sentence felt right. Cas belonged to Dean just as much as Dean belonged to him.

“Wait,” Dean said, pulling his face away from Cas’, and ignoring Cas’ indignant whine. “What does this mean for your job and all that? When are you going back to the Capitol? And what about Hannah?”

“I’ll only return to the Capitol when I have work, but I intend to stay in Kansas for the next three years. I even bought that house we rented in December.”

“Holy shit, Cas. But the commute to D.C. is going to be killer.”

“Not when you’re a pilot and bought your own private jet,” Castiel said, moving closer to start nibbling around Dean’s scent gland.

“You… you bought a house _and_ a jet in one day?” Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “Damn, there really are some perks to being royalty.”

“It does make it easier to be near my true mate,” Castiel agreed, before slowly kissing his way back towards Dean’s face. “That is, if you still want me?”

“Cas, I never stopped wanting you, man. I just was afraid that the Capitol would take away everything that I love about you. The man I love is the alpha who’s obsessed with plants, and bees, and other nature shit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you want to change the world, but I don’t want you to change yourself to do that.”

“I won’t,” Castiel promised, reaching up to kiss Dean on the forehead. “And if I feel myself becoming their puppet again, I know you’ll be there to remind me that I’m real. That we’re both real.”

Dean smirked. “You’ve come a long way from thinking there’s no such thing as true mates or omega-males.”

“That’s because I didn’t know you existed.” Castiel hugged him tight. “And now that I do, I won’t ever let you go.”

They stayed in each other’s embrace long after the third song passed, and didn't even react when an announcement broke through to say that Prince Castiel’s betrothal to Lady Hannah had been called off due to health concerns, or the next couple of songs after that. They were lost in each other’s worlds.

That was, until Dean’s timer went off.

“Shit, Cas! I still need to make more soap before I go to work!”

Castiel laughed, but helped him finish his task, and joined him for dinner with the teens at the Roadhouse before Dean started his shift.

Sam practically knocked a table over in a rush to hug the alpha, and was absolutely ecstatic to hear the news that they were moving in together.

For the first time, Dean wasn’t afraid of the future, but welcomed it. Their world was still scary, and they still needed to be careful. Now more than ever, since Castiel’s presence would bring even more attention to Dean, but Dean knew that it was worth the risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would never have been able to pull off writing these epics if I didn't have so many amazing people helping and cheering me on, so bare with me as I say thank you to the amazing people who got me through this fic.
> 
> First, thanks again to my amazing artist and partner in crime, Jaeh, who I feel so lucky to have been matched with for this bang. I had a feeling I was going to be paired up with her during our secret "dates" as we ended up sending over 100 messages to each other as we hashed out ideas for this a/b/o fic. I never written and a/b/o fic before, and had this radical idea for a fic where male omegas weren't supposed to exist in a totalitarian society. I wasn't sure if it would receive warm praise, but Jaeh encourage me to go for it. I'm also grateful for all the artwork she created for this story and it really made the story come alive.
> 
> I also want to thank my amazing, and superhero like beta DarcyDelaney as she had to edit through 200+K in the past couple of months. She helps make this story read so much smoother and I'm so lucky to have her.
> 
> Also shout out to my sprint team, especially Ang and Threshie. You guys kept me writing, even on days I just wanted to sleep.
> 
> And as always thanks to roomie for being my number one fan, and tech support.
> 
> Also thank you so much to all of you for reading this fic, and I really hope you enjoyed. Be on the lookout for part two of this trilogy sometime in the next year or so.


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